


The Last Thing I Expected

by KouriArashi



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic is known, Alternate Universe - No Shadowhunters, Crimes & Criminals, Developing Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Family, Homophobia, Law Enforcement, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmates, Supernatural Law Enforcement, past abusive relationship, soulmate magic, undercover cop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-09 02:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 47,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10401804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KouriArashi/pseuds/KouriArashi
Summary: On every warlock's 25th birthday, there's a ritual to choose their perfect match. Normally it isn't a big deal, but for Magnus Bane - the son of Asmodeus, an Underworld crime lord - it's the party of the century. Everyone is more than a little surprised when Magnus' match turns out to be the bartender, Alec ... who's actually an undercover police officer. Alec's bosses want him to play along to get close to the organization, but Alec isn't sure he can mislead the man who's apparently his soulmate...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh my God that summary is so melodramatic, hahaha oh well, enjoy <3
> 
> Notes: Semi-human AU! No shadowhunters but warlocks are still a thing, but they aren't immortal because immortality and soulmate AUs don't work well together.
> 
> The only real trigger that concerns me is Camille's abuse of Magnus, which will be discussed in some detail because Camille is a terrible person.
> 
> Generally show-canon compliant, probably not book-canon compliant because literally the only thing I know about Asmodeus is that he exists, so, I'm just kind of doing my own thing with him.

 

The Hellfire club is packed to capacity, and Alec is intensely glad that he’s safe behind the bar. It’s so loud that he can barely hear the drink orders, although a lot of the people present are warlocks, and find a way to get their words across despite the noise. He’s not surprised that it’s crowded, but he is surprised it’s _this_ crowded. They all knew that Magnus Bane’s binding ceremony was going to be a big deal, but there has to be at least five hundred people crammed into the club.

Of course, part of that is just because it’s the party of the century. It’s rumored that Asmodeus has a soft spot for his youngest son, and he’s certainly gone all out in throwing this party. There’s live music and dancing, strippers and prostitutes, and games of poker and pool. The catering crew had at least thirty people on it, and it had been easy for Alec to slip in with them unnoticed. Certainly nobody had questioned the need for a third bartender; he’s so busy that his plan to attempt to overhear conversations isn’t working in the slightest.

 Every important figure in the Underworld is here, which is why he had been sent. But as far as undercover missions go, it looks like it’s going to be a bust. From what little he’s managed to ascertain, nobody’s talking business anyway. Whether that’s because they don’t feel the environment is secure enough, or just because they’re all enjoying having a good time, he doesn’t know.

Still, the night is young. It’s barely eleven, and the ceremony will take place at the strike of midnight and then the party will last until dawn. Warlocks are nocturnal by nature, and Alec’s night owl habits are one reason why his superiors had chosen him for this assignment. He can stay up until dawn with no problem. And there’s certainly still room for something to happen as the party guests get more and more drunk. A lot of the people here aren’t friendly with each other. The Underworld is huge, and Asmodeus is near the top, so the invitees include plenty of representatives from warring factions or people who hold petty grudges. Asmodeus has made it clear that acting on those while under the auspices of his hospitality will carry severe consequences. But that doesn’t mean that nobody will.

He glances up as a man comes up to the bar, and instantly recognizes him as Magnus Bane himself. They’ve never met, but he was thoroughly briefed before the assignment, so he knows at least half the party guests by face if not by name. He’s a little surprised that Magnus is at the bar; when he had arrived, he had been sitting on the equivalent of a throne, being waited on hand and foot. He supposes that might get a little grating after a while, so the last thing Magnus probably wants is to be fawned on further. “What can I get you?” he shouts.

“Do you have fresh lime juice?” Magnus asks. He’s not shouting, but his voice cuts through the noise, which has faded into a dull roar in the background. Alec nods, so he says, “I’ll have a Cosmo, then.”

“Coming right up,” Alec says, grabbing a bottle of Stoli. He’s glad he actually knows how to make drinks, although there’s been some furtive Googling here and there. He had been a bartender during his senior year of college, after his parents had cut him off financially. He makes the drink and then turns to hand it to Magnus.

“Here you are!” a bright voice says, just as he’s handing it over, and Alec watches Magnus’ smile turn from something genuine into something brittle and unhappy. The woman who sits next to him, shouldering aside another guest, is Camille Belcourt. She immediately twines her arm through Magnus’, pressing in close to him. She glances at Alec and says, “Get me a Manhattan.”

Alec nods and turns to make her drink. When he comes back with it, Camille is leaning against Magnus and nibbling on his ear. Magnus’ smile looks pasted on his face, like he’s frozen it there so he won’t give away how he’s really feeling. That surprises Alec. Every rumor he’s heard had agreed that this ceremony was basically a formality, since Magnus and Camille had been lovers for years and were basically already engaged. At the stroke of midnight, it would become formal, that was all. But in that moment, when Camille takes her drink and then gives Alec a little ‘shoo’ gesture, Magnus looks like he’s contemplating throwing himself off a bridge.

Alec notes it down but then gets back to work. If Magnus and Camille aren’t happy together, there might be an angle to play. But deciding that isn’t his job. He’s only here to observe.

At about five minutes to midnight, there’s the sudden noise of a gong, and the room falls immediately silent. Asmodeus steps out onto a dais in the middle of the room, and Alec looks up in interest. The Prince of the Underworld is tall and lean, wearing a black suit with a blood red shirt. Like Magnus, he wears dark makeup and there are traces of glitter around his eyes. He has to be pushing seventy – Magnus is his youngest child, and born late in his life – but there’s no trace of gray hairs or wrinkles. He could be Magnus’ older brother rather than his father, and they resemble each other very strongly.

“Ladies, gentlemen, non-binaries!” Asmodeus greets them. “Please put your hands together for my son, Magnus Bane!”

There’s plenty of clapping and some whistles. Magnus steps up onto the dais with his father, smiling at the audience. The crowd has coalesced into a loose circle around them, although Camille is standing several steps closer than anybody else. Asmodeus is giving a speech about the long history of the binding ceremony, how important it is to the warlock community that everyone finds the person the fates have chosen for them, and et cetera. Alec half-tunes it out, because it sounds like bullshit to him. He’s pretty sure that the fates aren’t real, and that all of this is just staged so the different factions can’t protest alliances between families.

The room, already dim, gets even darker. Magnus is now standing up on the dais by himself, his eyes closed. He’s chanting softly, in a language that Alec doesn’t know, holding his hands out in front of himself. There’s a blue glow in them, and when he moves his hands apart, it spreads and envelopes his entire body. He opens his eyes, and they’re different now, golden and beautiful with slit-pupils like a cat. Alec can’t help but stare, arrested by his beauty.

Magnus snaps his fingers, sending a shower of blue sparks out into the audience, and then points across the room and speaks decisively in the same language. Alec realizes that Magnus is pointing in his direction, and looks behind him to see who Magnus might be pointing to. There’s nobody there. When he turns back, there’s a single blue spark right at eye level. He blinks, startled, and then reaches up without thinking to close his hand around it.

The lights come back up, but the noise doesn’t. Alec realizes that everyone is staring at him, including Magnus Bane. “Shit, was I not supposed to touch the spark?” Alec says, speaking before he can really think. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize – ”

There’s some shuffling in the crowd, and he sees that they’re clearing a path between him and Magnus and that Magnus is walking towards him. He freezes like a deer caught in headlights as the reality of the situation starts to sink in. It’s not that he wasn’t supposed to touch the spark. It’s that he _was_.

Magnus is still walking toward him, and Alec is still frozen, wondering vaguely if he should come out from behind the bar or something. But just before Magnus can reach the bar, Camille intercepts him. “How _dare_ you?” she demands, and Alec sees Magnus wince. “How dare you choose someone other than me? You promised me – ”

“Camille, you knew there was a chance this could happen,” Magnus says.

Camille slaps him across the face, so hard that the _crack_ echoes in the club. “You unfaithful, ungrateful, gutless, nutless bastard! After everything I’ve done for you! You will renounce the results of this ceremony right here and now, or I will – ”

“That’s not how it works – ”

Camille draws her hand back again, and Alec reaches out and grabs her wrist. “Hey!” he snaps, and Camille turns to him with both shock and rage etched on her face. “Do not touch him again.”

Camille yanks her arm out of his grip and then flounces away, pushing through the crowd. Moments later, she’s gone, and Alec is left staring at Magnus Bane and wondering what in God’s name he’s supposed to do with this.

Fortunately, before he has to fumble through an introduction, Asmodeus has emerged from the crowd to take charge. “What’s your name?”

“I, um, Alec.” Alec realizes in dawning horror that he didn’t have an alias prepared for this mission, and that he has literally no cover. He wasn’t supposed to interact with anybody, so it hadn’t been necessary. He resists the urge to turn tail and run. “Alec Lightwood.”

“Alec Lightwood,” Asmodeus says, with a note of formality in his voice, “my son, Magnus Bane.”

Alec’s mouth works for a moment before he throws in the towel. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s clear that, that there’s something I’m supposed to say here but I-I honestly have no idea what it is.”

Asmodeus’ mouth curves into a smile. “Of course, you wouldn’t have any reason to. The correct response is ‘it’s an honor and a privilege’. Put your hands out.”

“Oh.” Alec swallows and holds both hands out in front of himself. Magnus takes them, and Alec spares a distant thought for the fact that Magnus’ skin is really soft and beautiful. “It’s an honor and a privilege.”

“The privilege is mine,” Magnus responds, squeezing his hands.

“Welcome to the family, Alec,” Asmodeus says, and then raises his voice. “My son has found a match! Let the celebration begin!”

Immediately, the music starts again and the club lights start flashing, and Alec manages to say through an increasingly numb mouth, “I should grab one of the others to replace me at the bar.”

“I’ll handle that,” Asmodeus says, and shoves them both out into the crowd. Everyone and their brother needs to congratulate Magnus on his choice, and fortunately, Alec isn’t required to talk much, or really at all. Magnus seems just as shocked as he is at what’s happened over the past ten minutes, so mostly it’s a lot of being patted on the back and shaking hands and listening to people tell them how lucky they are.

The noise and the lights give Alec a headache in no time, and he leans in to ask, “Do you want to get out of here?” He wishes he could whisper, but in this atmosphere, he all but has to shout in Magnus’ ear.

“I’d love to, but it would be a breach of etiquette.” As before, at the bar, Magnus’ voice cuts through the noise and plants itself in Alec’s mind. Alec assumes there’s some magical trick that he doesn’t know and couldn’t do if he did. “We’re not supposed to talk seriously tonight. Tonight, we party. Tomorrow is when we talk. Want to dance?”

“Uh, sure, yes,” Alec says, because dancing with Magnus honestly sounds like a level of Heaven he has not yet discovered. He’s quickly proven to be one hundred percent correct. Magnus moves like sin personified. Alec has no idea how to dance, so he just stands there and shifts from foot to foot with the beat, watching Magnus twist and spin and shimmy.

They dance for about a half an hour and then take a drink break. Alec has formulated a plan. He’s going to have a few drinks and then act a lot drunker than he is. That ought to give him an excuse to _not_ go home with Magnus, or at least he’s hoping that it will. He needs to get the hell out of here. Maybe move to the North Pole or something.

Three drinks later, the plan seems to be working. Magnus has loosened up, too, and he’s leaning against Alec a lot and smiling at him and Alec is trying very hard _not_ to be affected by that. Magnus has such a gorgeous smile, and he seems to genuinely be enjoying Alec’s company even though they can’t do much more than dance and get fawned over by the other party attendees.

After the fourth drink, when he’s pretending to stumble, it occurs to him that he is probably presuming way too much chivalry of a career criminal warlock. What if being drunk only provides Magnus the opportunity to get him alone, and to – well, okay, Alec has to admit that if it weren’t for the ‘career criminal warlock’ part he’d probably jump into the sack with Magnus in an instant. But he can’t exactly ignore that part.

Before he can worry too much more about it, he’s being bundled into a taxi, and Magnus is saying in patient tones, “Give him your address,” and Alec thinks ‘great, now he’ll know where I live’. He gives the driver his sister’s address instead. She’s doing her residency at med school and hasn’t been home in months, but he has a key to her place.

It’s about three AM when he gets there. He hates to wake his boss, but he doesn’t see how he has much choice. He takes out his phone and dials, and Lydia Branwell picks up on the fourth ring. “Agent Branwell,” she mumbles, clearly trying to sound awake.

“It’s Alec,” he says. “We have a problem.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

After a prolonged conversation with Lydia, Alec takes a hot shower and manages to get a few hours of sleep. She’s told him to be at the office by nine and she’ll have taken care of everything by then. His sleep is understandably restless, and he’s up by seven. He works out for an hour before he makes himself a pot of coffee and drinks half of it with some toast.

When he gets to the station, it’s not just Lydia waiting for him, but Special Agent-in-Charge Herondale. “I hear you had an interesting evening, Agent Lightwood.”

“It could definitely be put that way,” Alec says.

When they had talked about the assignment, the concept of him being chosen by Magnus had never come up. It simply wasn’t a scenario they had considered possible. Everybody knew that Magnus was going to choose Camille Belcourt. That made his ceremony one that was safe to attend without that risk – or so they had thought.

He follows Herondale into her office. Lydia closes the door after them. “So,” Herondale says, “I think we can all agree that this is an unprecedented opportunity to get information on Asmodeus’ operations.”

Alec looks at her blankly for a few moments before saying, “You want me to play along with this? Ma’m, I am _not_ qualified for a deep cover mission like that.”

“Magnus Bane just qualified you,” Herondale says. “The warlocks look at these ceremonies as sacred. Nobody, up to and including Asmodeus, can say that you don’t have the right to Magnus’ company. We will probably never get a chance like this to bring down his organization again.”

Alec squirms a little. “I understand that, but I’m not trained for this. The last time I tried to put on an act, it was in middle school, and my audition was such an abomination that they cast me as a tree.”

Lydia snorts.

“We’re not asking you to act. Just be yourself. We’ve created your cover identity – or I really should say, modified your real identity, since you had to give your real name. We’ve kept as much pertinent data the same as possible – only removed all your ties to law enforcement and replaced it with the kind of job history that could have led you to being the bartender last night. All you have to do is get to know Magnus and get as close to as many of his family members as you can.”

“That’s . . .” Alec clears his throat. “I can do my best, but . . .”

“Good.” Herondale clearly considers the matter settled. “We’ve been busy while you were sleeping. We’ve set you up a new apartment. We ran some people over to your place to get your clothes and your toothbrush, et cetera. Anything else you want that we didn’t get, give Agent Branwell a list and she’ll send some people over to get it. Here’s the dossier on your cover.” She hands him a manila envelope. “Memorize it before you get back in touch with Bane. Your new phone is in there as well. Your contact will be Raj; he’s got experience in covert operations. His number is in the phone.”

Alec looks down at the folder. It seems to get heavier as she speaks. “Presuming that I manage to get enough information to bring the gang down, what will happen then?”

Herondale immediately sees the real reason for his question. “I won’t lie to you, Lightwood. You might have to go into Witness Protection. Even if this weren’t your real identity, it would be safer. The warlocks have ways of finding people, but we have ways of hiding them. But it will depend on exactly how things play out, and whether or not we think there’s a reasonable chance they might have discovered that you were a mole.”

After a moment, Alec nods. “Okay. I’ll go look through this.”

“Good,” Herondale says, and then dismisses him.

Alec goes out into the main office and sits down at his desk, opening the folder. He tucks the phone into his pocket, then looks at his current phone and puts it on his desk for now. He leafs through the packet. They’ve kept his family members the same, but changed their professions and his hometown. They’ve left Izzy as a medical student, though. It will be dangerous to keep in touch with people, but he can’t disappear from Izzy’s life without a word. She’ll come looking for him if he does. So he uses his new phone to text her, simply saying, ‘It’s Alec, had to get a new phone’. He’s glad she’s out of town, although he supposes he has no idea how long a cover mission like this could last.

The more recent data is all different. Instead of college at George Washington and getting a degree in criminal justice, he went to a community college in his hometown of Bridgeport and graduated with a degree in sociology. Alec grimaces at that, imagining what his mother would think if he had actually done such a thing. Since then, he’s apparently worked a year as a waiter, a year as a barista, and finally two years as a bartender before joining up with the catering company six months previous.

He supposes that it’s not a terrible career trajectory, but in comparison to his actual life, it feels pathetic. But he memorizes all the pertinent details. By the time he’s done with that, it’s getting on towards the afternoon. He decides to check out his new apartment and make it look lived in, just in case. There’s really nothing he needs from his old place. He’s always lived a Spartan lifestyle. As long as the new place has clothes and a couch and a television, he’ll be fine.

It’s smaller than his own apartment by a significant margin, although he supposes that makes sense. A bartender would make less than a detective, or so he would presume. It doesn’t really matter to him. The place is clean and actually pretty cozy, and there’s a bodega right on the corner. He’ll have everything he needs, and he’s ready to get to work.

Which is when it occurs to him that he has no idea how to start. Magnus had sent him home last night, but hadn’t given him a phone number or an address or anything like that. Are they going to look him up? Should he wait for Magnus to call him? His dossier hadn’t included anything in the way of social media beyond a few edits to the Facebook page he only has because Izzy signed him up for one years ago, saying it was the best way for him to keep up with her life. He signs on to see if there are any new messages, but there aren’t.

After a few minutes of debate, he heads down to the Hellfire club. It’s practically deserted at this time of day, but there’s a man behind the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Uh, I have kind of a weird question,” Alec says. “I was here last night and left without getting someone’s number.”

He realizes as soon as he says it that he sounds kind of like a stalker, but then the man looks up and his mouth twitches in a smile. “You must be Alec. Magnus told me you might be coming by. He called me this morning saying he’d been so flustered that he’d forgotten to get your number.” He pushes a napkin over the bar that he had apparently taken the message on. “Godspeed.”

“Thanks,” Alec says. He takes the napkin and drops a fiver in the tip jar before heading outside. He puts Magnus’ number in his phone and then wonders what an appropriate text message to the man you apparently got engaged to the night before would be. He settles for the most direct and simple. ‘Magnus? This is Alec.’

There’s a response almost immediately. ‘Hello, Alec. I’m glad you checked at the bar. I could find you if I wanted to but I didn’t want to cross boundaries.’

Alec eyes his phone, because between that and Magnus calling him a taxi when he was ‘drunk’, Magnus is really nothing like what he had expected. He texts back, ‘No worries. Sorry it took me this long. I was sleeping off the hangover.’

A minute later, Magnus texts, ‘Would you like to meet? I’m at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden.’

‘Sure,’ Alec replies, and calculates. ‘Probably will take me about a half hour.’

‘I’m in no hurry. The cherry blossoms are lovely.’

‘Okay. I’ll see you soon.’

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments! <3

 

Alec tucks his phone away and heads for the nearest subway station. It takes about twenty minutes on the train. He grabs a map, but the cherry trees are easy to find. Magnus is sitting on a bench, enjoying the weather. He’s twice as gorgeous in the sun as he was in the club, his hair streaked with gold highlights and dressed more casually in soft black pants and a maroon shirt with gold dragons embroidered on it.

His face lights up when he sees Alec, and a broad smile crosses his face, and in that moment Alec feels like the world’s biggest shitheel. Pretending that he’s okay with this, that he’s someone he’s not – he shouldn’t be doing this. He has to remind himself that Magnus Bane is a terrible person, the son of a crime lord and undoubtedly responsible for ruining the lives of hundreds of people. So what if Alec breaks his heart? He must deserve it for something.

“Hello, Alec,” Magnus says, standing up as Alec approaches. “How’s your head?”

“Okay,” Alec says. “Sorry for, uh, overindulging last night. I think my nerves got to me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I imagine you weren’t exactly expecting this when you woke up yesterday morning.” Magnus sits back down on the bench and gestures for Alec to sit next to him, which Alec does. “Which brings me to something I should mention. This isn’t . . . compulsory for you. Everyone from the Underworld who attends a binding ceremony knows they could be chosen, but you had no idea what you were getting into. Say the word, and I will expect nothing from you.”

Alec blinks a little. He _definitely_ hadn’t expected that, and the way Magnus’ shoulders are tensed hints that he’s braced for rejection. He tests the waters gingerly. “I don’t, uh . . . I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I guess I’m game if you are.”

Magnus smiles a little, his shoulders relaxing. “Before you agree, I should warn you about Camille.”

“Yeah, she, uh . . . she seemed pissed.”

“Congratulations on the world’s biggest understatement,” Magnus says with a snort. “Yes, she is pissed. She will definitely try to quash this somehow, up to and possibly including trying to have you killed. I can’t ask you to take that risk for me. For anyone, really, but especially not for someone you just met.”

Alec opens his mouth to say something, then frowns. “Just out of curiosity . . . if I did refuse, you . . . would you go back to her?”

 Magnus shrugs. “I suppose I wouldn’t have a reason not to. But that being said, you don’t need to ‘save’ me, Alec. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

Alec tries to keep a neutral expression. He feels like there’s probably a lot to unpack here, and he isn’t going to get into it in public, on what should theoretically qualify as their first date. “I meant it more like, did you actually want to marry her? Because if so, I certainly don’t want you to break up on my behalf.”

“Oh.” Magnus looks a little nonplussed, and clears his throat. “No, you don’t need to worry about that.”

He doesn’t offer details, and Alec doesn’t request them, at least not about Camille. “That ceremony you did . . . what does it actually mean? All I saw was a lot of flashy lights. How does it look from your end?”

“The binding ceremony is meant to find the person we are meant to be with,” Magnus says. “They’re typically not as showy. My father insists on making a big deal out of everything,” he adds, rolling his eyes slightly. “From my end . . .” He’s quiet for a few moments, as if looking for the words to explain it. “When I opened my eyes, everything was just . . . dull, shades of gray, as far as the eye could see. Except you. You stood out in vibrant color. You drew me in like the tide. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.”

Alec flushes pink. “Oh. I, uh, that’s. Oh.”

Magnus smiles at him. “Sorry. I’m prone to romanticism. But you did ask.”

“I did,” Alec agrees. “Anyway, I don’t really want to be murdered by Camille Belcourt, but I _do_ kind of want to walk around the gardens with you. I’ve never been here before.”

Magnus’ smile becomes even brighter. “I’d be happy to give you a tour. I live right around the corner, so I often come here to think.”

He holds out a hand to Alec, and after a moment of hesitation, Alec takes it. Magnus leads him down the garden path, and starts pointing out different kinds of flowers. His horticultural knowledge is surprisingly impressive, and Alec listens in interest.

After about a half hour, it grows cloudy, and a light rain starts to fall. They take refuge in one of the conservatories. “So what happens next?” Alec asks, once they’ve found a place to sit down. “I mean, it was pretty obvious last night that there’s a lot of ritual to this and I really don’t know any of it.”

“Well, at this point, the ritual is over,” Magnus says.

“Not entirely,” Alec says, then shakes his head. “Ritual isn’t really the right word. Protocol, maybe? Like, you told me that I could refuse. I had no idea that was allowed. I mean, are there things I’m supposed to do? What’s the, the initiation to an Underworld family like?”

Magnus snorts a little. “The fact that you’re using the word ‘initiation’ tells me that you’re way overthinking this. You’re not becoming a capo.”

Alec laughs. “Okay. But what _am_ I becoming?”

“At the moment? Really nothing more than my boyfriend. A serious boyfriend, to be sure, but we’re not married. Either of us has the right to call a halt to things at any time.”

“Then what’s the point of all the fanfare?” Alec asks. “I mean, the way you’re describing this, it’s like a very condensed season of the Bachelor.”

Magnus bursts into laughter, leaning back on the bench, and it’s beautiful. “I will literally pay you to say that to my father’s face.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Alec says, lifting his hands in surrender. “Seriously, though. I mean, I don’t know anything about magic, about the Underworld. A lot of people think the ceremony is just a sham. That it’s a way for, for Romeo to get his Juliet without resorting to open war between the families. Except if that’s the case, you would have chosen Camille last night. So there’s more to it than that.”

“There is and there is not,” Magnus says. “I don’t doubt that sometimes that’s what actually happens. Some people take the ritual more seriously than others. And it’s worth pointing out that . . . I got a particularly strong response. What I was saying about the colors – for a lot of people, everyone just appears in varying shades, and they choose whoever is the brightest. But there’s always a margin. And sometimes people don’t choose at all. That’s why my father said last night that I had found a match. Because the spell doesn’t always end that way.”

Alec nods slowly. “Okay. So the stuff about fate is kind of, uh, exaggerated?”

“I suppose it depends on how you look at it. I believe the fates mean for me to be with you. Perhaps the people who don’t find anyone, their match is just someone they haven’t met yet.” Magnus shrugs. “But there’s no initiation. I mean, my father would very much like to get to know you better, and has already asked me repeatedly when I’ll bring you over for dinner. But other than that, it’s just the two of us.”

Alec rubs a hand over the back of his head, trying to find a way to phrase his next question. Tact and subtlety just aren’t his forte. “Look, uh. I’m just going to come right out and say it. Am I expected to be a part of the, the family business?”

“Oh, Lord, no,” Magnus says, truly startled. “I mean, even if you were matched with one of my siblings who’s involved, still no.”

“Does that mean you aren’t involved?” Alec asks.

Magnus grimaces a little. “I can’t . . . _not know_ what my family does. Sometimes I wish I could. But to answer your question, no. I have eleven older siblings, you know. I have nieces and nephews who are literally older than I am. There’s plenty of ‘family’ to spread the business around in. I’ve never taken an interest, and my father has never pushed me to do so.”

“So . . . what do you do?” Alec asks, honestly curious.

“I’m a fashion consultant.”

“A . . . fashion consultant?” Alec feels like his brain is short-circuiting.

“Mm hm. I write for fashion magazines and help the best-dressed of New York match their earrings and their shoes.” Magnus looks a little hesitant. “I know it seems silly, but it’s something I’ve always loved doing, even since I was little. I had more dolls than all my female siblings combined.”

“It doesn’t seem silly, it’s just not what I would have expected out of you, at, at all.”

Magnus blinks at him for a few moments before he laughs again. “Oh, my poor Alexander. You seriously thought you were going to be putting people in concrete boots and throwing them in the Hudson, didn’t you.”

Alec flushes bright pink. “It’s not my fault! Everyone knows who Asmodeus is. I, I just assumed . . .” He moans softly and presses his face into his hands, embarrassed beyond words. He absolutely cannot do this. He can’t stay undercover, allow Magnus to think he’s serious about this, if Magnus is just a civilian.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” Magnus says, although he’s still chuckling softly. “I can see why you would think that, if you didn’t know much about my family. I’m not saying that I don’t have any warlock talents – I do, and I use them frequently. But other than that, I’m really not that much different from you.” He looks up. “The rain has stopped. Shall we go see the Rose Garden?”

“Sure,” Alec says, too off balance to protest. As they walk towards it, he says, “What about meeting your father, though?”

“Well, he’d very much like to get to know you. My father is old-fashioned in some ways. Protocol _is_ a good word for what he will insist on, but don’t worry, I can prep you ahead of time. He would like to meet your parents, too.”

“Oh, that’s not going to happen,” Alec says, wincing.

Magnus glances at him, and his tone is sympathetic. “Trouble coming out?”

“Among other things.” Alec sighs a little. “Uh, do you know anything about the Angelblood Society?”

“A little,” Magnus says.

“My parents are in it. Like, really into it. They have all these documents and family trees displayed to trace our lineage back to Raziel.” Alec pushes a hand through his hair. “They would not agree to even sit in a room with a warlock, let alone give their blessing for me to _marry_ one.”

“That’s a shame.”

“I don’t really get along with them anyway,” Alec says, and gives a little shrug. The family history he was given doesn’t match his own in some places, and it makes it difficult to explain. His wealthy, prestigious politician parents putting pressure on him is not compatible with ‘community college’ and ‘bartender’. “Let’s just cut a long, painful story short and say that I didn’t meet a lot of their expectations, and they don’t want to hear from me until I’ve decided to do better.”

Magnus winces a little. “Well, my father won’t push on the matter after we explain it, so don’t worry about it. Dinner tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Alec hesitates. “What should I wear, fashion consultant?” he asks, and Magnus laughs. “Really, I mean, how formal will it be.”

“Wear a suit and tie, presuming you have one?” he says, and Alec nods. “That will be more than sufficient. To be honest, you’re one of those brutally unfair people who would be gorgeous in a potato sack.”

Alec flushes pink. “I think you’re looking in a mirror instead of at your date.”

Magnus smiles at him. “Deflect a compliment and return one at the same time! Yes, I think the fates have chosen very wisely. You know, there’s a place up the street that has some amazing craft beers. We should stop in after we look at the roses. I can tell you what to expect tomorrow night.”

“Sure,” Alec says. “That sounds good.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

By the time they part ways for the evening, Alec is one hundred percent positive that he cannot do this undercover mission. For one thing, if Magnus isn’t actually involved in Asmodeus’ operations, then he’s not going to get any information anyway. Secondly, Magnus is gorgeous and funny and intelligent and Alec is beginning to seriously wonder about this matching ceremony. He’s never met anyone that he connected to as quickly as Magnus. He’s tried dating a few times in the past and it’s almost always been a disaster full of awkward silences and feet in mouths.

It’s not like that at all with Magnus. They talk about places in New York that they’ve been, and the types of people Magnus meets through his work, and the kinds of books and movies that they like. By the time a couple hours have gone by, Alec finds he’s somehow promised to come over for a Lord of the Rings marathon along with inviting Magnus back to his place at some future date so he can make him watch Dawn of the Dead. They could have been friends for years. Actually, Alec thinks, even people he _has_ known for years, he’s never been so comfortable around.

Which means that he needs to put a stop to this now, immediately. He texts Raj and then heads back to his apartment. He goes up to it long enough to write a quick report for his superiors which reads, ‘Magnus Bane is not involved in Asmodeus’ operations. He will not be a source of information and I do not feel it is appropriate to deceive a civilian into thinking he is magically bound to me. Requesting new orders.’ He folds it into an envelope and then heads down to the bodega. He buys himself a drink and glances over his shoulder as he sees Raj head inside. He passes the envelope to him and then heads back to his apartment.

He knows he probably won’t hear back until morning, so it’s a long night. He spends a lot of it on the internet, researching the school he supposedly went to and the jobs his parents had supposedly had. He doesn’t know what might come up in small talk, but it’s better to be prepared. He realizes a few hours later that doing this is pointless since he won’t even have to go to the stupid dinner.

But apparently, his gut had known better. When Raj slips a note into his pocket at a coffee shop the next morning, it reads, ‘You can still use Magnus to get close to Asmodeus. Your assignment has not changed.’

This annoys him, not just because they’re not taking him off the assignment but also because they didn’t even acknowledge the ethical dilemma. He thinks about it for a few minutes before deciding that he’ll at least go to dinner with Asmodeus. That will help him decide whether or not he’ll be able to get any information that might be helpful to the bureau.

Of course, if he is allowed to pull out, what then? Is it possible to just ghost a warlock? ‘They have ways of finding you’, Herondale had said, and Magnus himself had confirmed that with his first text. Is there any way he could return to his normal life at this point? He sighs and tries to put it out of his mind. He’s going to need to keep his wits about him at dinner, which isn’t going to happen if he’s preoccupied with his suddenly nonexistent future.

It occurs to him as he’s getting dressed that he could just tell Magnus the truth. Magnus isn’t a criminal, and he seems to be uncomfortable with what his family does. He might genuinely not have a problem with Alec being an FBI agent, even if Alec is actively trying to put his entire family in jail. Of course, he also might not be thrilled with having been lied to. Alec knows that he wouldn’t be, in Magnus’ shoes.

The fact that he’s even contemplating this – coming clean as an undercover cop to the son of a crime lord – shows how head over heels he already is for Magnus. He sighs and runs a comb through his hair. His crush on Magnus is going to get him killed if he’s not careful. He wishes that Herondale had believed him about the fact that he’s not good at this sort of thing. He can’t just pretend to have feelings. No, he has to actually go and _have_ feelings.

“I am so fucking unqualified for this,” he mutters, before calling an Uber.

Asmodeus Bane lives in a mansion in Mill Basin, and Alec has to admit he’s impressed, even having seen the estates of some of his parents’ political friends. Magnus is waiting for him at the gate, and smiles as he pulls it open to let him in, then stands back to look at his outfit. “Yes, I think you’ll do,” he teases. It’s not much of a suit, Alec has to admit. It’s gray, with a black tie, and it’s the only one Alec owns. Next to Magnus’ red velvet jacket and sparkly eyes, he’s probably invisible. “Needs a splash of color, though,” Magnus adds, and pulls a turquoise pocket square out, tucking it into Alec’s suit jacket. “There we are. Perfect.”

“I’ll take your word on it,” Alec says, smiling despite himself. “So . . . do you live here?”

“Oh, Lord, no. I have a loft apartment in Crown Heights.” Magnus laughs a little and says, “I’m twenty-five, not twelve.”

“Look, I made it clear that I don’t know how crime families work, remember?” Alec says jokingly, and Magnus lifts his hands in surrender. “But I guess this place probably isn’t big enough to hold all your eleven siblings and their families.”

“No, it’s just my father and his . . .” Magnus has to stop and count on his fingers. “Sixth wife.”

“Wow, you had to think about that,” Alec says.

“And I’m not even sure I’m right,” Magnus says. “When you divorce your third wife and then remarry her twenty years later, after being married to two other women in the meantime, is she your sixth wife? Or is she your third wife, still?”

“Third wife, once removed,” Alec says.

“That is a strikingly literal way of putting it,” Magnus says, chuckling.

“You didn’t talk much about her. I take it she’s not your mother?”

“No, my mother was the fourth wife, who actually died when I was rather young. Thus leading to the fifth wife, who was definitely _not_ interested in raising me but was more interested in spending a lot of my father’s money. She left while I was in middle school, and my father remarried Lilith a few years later. And, in case you are curious, literally none of these wives were my father’s match. He’s one of the unfortunate souls who didn’t match with anyone, and has spent most of his life overcompensating for it.”

“Is there going to be a quiz later?” Alec asks.

Magnus snorts. “No. Lilith isn’t even here. She’s heavily . . . involved in my father’s business, and she’s in Bangkok right now. Which I only know because I asked my father specifically so I could, er, prepare you for meeting her if she was going to be here.”

“Okay,” Alec says, noting with unease that he just gained a bit of actual intelligence that he could pass along to his superiors. He doesn’t know what Lilith is doing in Bangkok, but knowing that she’s there very well could prove to be important. He squares his mental shoulders as Magnus leads him into the house.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything I know about wine, I learned from the internet. Please don't hold Alec responsible if I got things wrong. ^_^

 

Asmodeus is waiting just inside the house, and he greets Alec with the same wide smile that often graces Magnus’ face. “It’s an honor to receive you, Mr. Lightwood.”

The formality makes Alec feel awkward, but Magnus has prepared him for how this is going to go and told him what to say. He shakes Asmodeus’ hand and says, “The honor is all mine, sir. And please call me Alec.”

“Would you care to sit outside?” Asmodeus asks.

“Sure,” Alec says, because the spring weather has been truly gorgeous the last few days. He follows Asmodeus out onto the porch, which overlooks the water, and resists the urge to let out a whistle. Politicians be damned; to get this kind of real estate in New York City takes more money than his parents have had in their whole lives. A woman comes over and asks what they’d like to drink. Magnus asks for an iced tea, so Alec feels safe asking for the same.

“That reminds me, Alec,” Asmodeus says, “I was debating what kind of wine to have with dinner and thought you might be able to offer your expert opinion. My chef makes an excellent seared Ahi tuna and he swears by Chardonnay with it, but honestly I detest white wine.”

 Alec is suddenly intensely glad that his parents always talked a lot about wine with their friends. “You know, with a strong fish, like tuna, you can get away with a red. You could play it safe with a Pinot Noir, but honestly, I would recommend Shiraz. I think it’s a very underrated wine, and it’s very bold. Of course, I haven’t had your chef’s cooking so I don’t know how strongly flavored the dish is.”

Asmodeus smiles and says, “Well, I’m certainly willing to give it a try. If it’s terrible, we’ll just toss it out the window and have water instead.”

“Or sake,” Magnus chips in, and Asmodeus nods approvingly.

“So, Alec,” Asmodeus says, once the woman has returned with their drinks, “what a marvelous turn of fortune that you happened to be the bartender the other night. Magnus has told me that the spell had a very strong reaction.”

“Yeah, it’s like something from a fairy tale,” Alec says. “I, uh, I hope I didn’t cause any trouble for you.”

“Not at all,” Asmodeus says, then waves a hand and laughs, “well, perhaps a little. Camille is very upset, and when Camille is upset, all the Belcourts are upset. But that isn’t your fault. I can soothe their ruffled feathers, and I would far rather Magnus find someone he’s truly happy with.”

“I hope I can measure up,” Alec says.

“To Camille? Trust me, it won’t be hard.” Asmodeus sips his lemonade and says, “So, tell me absolutely everything about yourself.”

Alec laughs a little. “I was, uh, I’m originally from Connecticut. Oldest of three. My younger brother’s still in school, and my sister is actually doing her medical residency right now, in St. Louis. I got my degree in sociology, and I’ve been working as a bartender for the last few years while I saved up enough money to get my master’s degree.”

Alec can just imagine what his parents would do if he presented a significant other with that sort of history. Maryse would probably need smelling salts. But Asmodeus doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Sociology is actually a very diverse field of study, so you should have a lot of options. Paying to put yourself through school, though – Magnus mentioned you don’t get along with your parents?”

“Uh, yeah,” Alec says. “They did actually pay for the first couple years of college, but, uh, my mom made certain demands regarding closets she would rather I be in. When I refused, they cut me off.”

“Unbelievable,” Asmodeus says, shaking his head. “2017, and people still have a problem with something as basic as human sexuality.” He glances over at his phone as it rings. “Ah, excuse me, I have to take this.” He puts the phone to his ear. “Yes? Yes, I see. Mm hm.” There’s a long pause. “Just redirect it to Atlanta. The restrictions are much more lax there. Talk to Philip if there’s a problem. He knows the ins-and-outs.” Another pause. “Yes, text me when it’s done.” He hangs up and grimaces. “I’d like to say that won’t happen often, but unfortunately, I have my fingers in many pies, and they often come knocking. Hungry?”

“Yes, definitely,” Alec says, and they head inside. Alec tries not to think about the phone conversation, and the fact that he knows Atlanta is a hub for human trafficking. It’s so bizarre to see Asmodeus relaxed and personable, getting to know his son’s new boyfriend and condemning homophobia in one moment, then getting on the phone and conducting the sort of business that ruins lives in the next.

Even worse is the fact that that’s exactly the sort of information that his superiors will find valuable. They’ve long suspected that Asmodeus’ operation involved human trafficking, but they’ve never been sure. Now they’ll be sure. Plus he now knows that someone named Philip is a direct contact of Asmodeus involved in this. If Asmodeus is willing to have that sort of phone conversation in front of him, he’s definitely placed to receive valuable intelligence. That’s not even mentioning the fact that he’s in Asmodeus’ house, a place where law enforcement has never been and without him, likely never would be.

He pushes that aside to focus on his cover. He apparently won’t be able to get out of this any time soon, so he needs to make Asmodeus like him. The food is excellent and Asmodeus loves the wine he suggested, and they chat about inconsequential things. Alec has never been outside the eastern United States in his life, so Asmodeus is full of suggestions of places they should go. Amusingly, he talks about the six different honeymoons he’s been on and where they went. They stay away from sensitive topics like politics, and it’s a genuinely pleasant evening.

“So how do you like being a bartender?” Asmodeus asks after dinner, when they’re relaxing in some interior study, and he’s brought out a bottle of very expensive Scotch.

“Well, it certainly beats being a barista,” Alec says, laughing. “Every job like that will have rude customers, but as a bartender I get to cut them off and have the bouncers throw them out.”

Asmodeus seems to find that extremely amusing. When he’s done laughing, he says, “Well, if you’re ever in the market for a different job, let me know. Always lots to do around here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alec says, then adds, “Thank you, sir.”

Asmodeus waves this off, and Alec tries not to think about the fact that if his superiors know he’s gotten this offer, they’ll certainly demand he take Asmodeus up on it. He’s not sure they entirely understand the matching ceremony. Magnus doesn’t seem to want to be involved or even think too deeply about the sort of thing his family does. If Alec starts getting involved, won’t Magnus think that he can’t really be Alec’s match? Will he smell a rat?

He realizes with a bit of a start that he’s thinking about the binding ceremony like it’s real, _obviously_. But the weight of the evidence is starting to point that way. Magnus might not have wanted to marry Camille, but Alec can’t imagine choosing a complete stranger just to get out of it.

He’ll have to think more about how to handle that. In the meantime, it won’t be hard to strike up a friendship with Asmodeus, despite their many differences. He’s obviously intent on seeing his son happy. It’ll be easy to go to him for relationship advice or suggestions on things to buy Magnus or places to take him.

After about an hour, Asmodeus gets another call. He speaks very little during this one, and after hanging up says, “Duty calls, I’m afraid. Alec, it’s been fantastic to meet you. I’ll see you again soon, I hope.”

Alec shakes his hand and says that he hopes for the same, and then Asmodeus hurries away. Magnus smiles at him and says, “I’d offer you a ride home, but I came here by portal and intend to return home the same way.”

“That’s okay, I’ll call an Uber,” Alec says, swiping on his phone. He taps for a few minutes before saying, “It’ll be about fifteen minutes.”

Magnus nods. “I’ve probably had a bit too much wine and Scotch to be driving, anyway. My father’s liquor collection is _superb_.”

“Is it okay to portal drunk?” Alec asks, and Magnus laughs. “You’re so right, though. That was the best damned Scotch I’ve ever had.”

“Mm. I’m just remembering,” Magnus’ shoulders are shaking with laughter, “when my father met his fifth wife’s father, and he had brought a bottle of some expensive liquor and greeted my father with, ‘I’ve heard you like to drink’.”

“Oh, God,” Alec says, snickering. “You know, it’s really good to know that there is apparently a _very_ low bar set for impressing your father.”

“There really is,” Magnus says, covering his laughter with one hand.

“You know, though, can I ask something?” Alec says. “Your father, uh, he doesn’t seem to like Camille very much.”

Magnus grimaces a little. “Lord, no. He’s always tried to respect my choices while also hinting heavily that he finds them unfathomable. It’s a fine line to walk.”

Alec can tell that Magnus doesn’t want to talk about Camille, so he says, “He, uh, he’s an interesting man.”

“That . . . is very true.” Magnus finishes his Scotch. “I know what you’re thinking, you know. But he isn’t fake, my father. Everything you saw tonight was genuine. It’s like . . . honestly, it’s like he’s two people. He’s the warm, doting father, and he’s also the ruthless crime lord. These two people are tangentially aware of each other but rarely interact. Don’t ask me how they manage to co-exist in the same body, because honestly, I don’t know. I’ve spent the better part of twenty years trying to figure it out, but I don’t understand it and presumably never will.”

“Huh,” Alec says, because he literally has no idea how to respond to that.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Magnus says. “I know my family can be intimidating. But I don’t typically see them very much. My father will keep tabs on us for a little while to make sure you’re treating me right, and then he’ll back off, so don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Alec says. He glances at his phone. “Oh, my ride’s here.”

Magnus walks him out. “Shall we go out and have a drink tomorrow?” he asks.

“I have to work, sorry,” Alec says, even though it’s not true. He’s supposed to have a steady job, so he can’t just spend all his time in Magnus’ pocket. The catering company is a good cover, a lot better than a job as a bartender where Magnus could theoretically come see him at work. He’d mostly be working at private events. “How about Wednesday? We could grab some dinner, maybe catch a movie? Movies are allowed at a third date, right?”

Laughing, Magnus says, “I believe so, yes. I’ll check the listings and call you.”

“Okay.” They’re standing on the front step now, and Alec wonders if he’s supposed to kiss him. He probably is. He _wants_ to. But he also doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. Since Magnus doesn’t make a move, he winds up waving awkwardly and then heading to the car. He spends most of the ride home berating himself for not kissing Magnus, thinking that it would rate in the top five activities he would like to do for the rest of his life.

Once back at his place, he writes out a report for his superiors, describing the house and its security system and staff, then talking about Asmodeus’ conversation about Atlanta, Lilith’s trip to Bangkok, and a few other pieces of information he managed to glean during dinner. He doesn’t mention Asmodeus’ offer to get him a job. They would undoubtedly order him to take Asmodeus up on the offer, and he simply isn’t interested in doing that.

He passes it off to Raj at the bodega, and doesn’t expect to get a response. Instead, he works out for about an hour before going to bed.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec realizes quickly that this job is going to be boring as hell. He doesn’t actually have to work, so the only thing he’s doing is dating Magnus. Since he doesn’t want to come on too strong – he still has no idea what the etiquette for relationship building after a binding ceremony is, but Magnus doesn’t seem to have a problem with the fact that Alec hasn’t tried to move in with him yet – he’s going to have a lot of free time on his hands.

Of course, he has plenty of books and television, so he can make a staycation out of it. He hasn’t actually had a sizable chunk of time off since joining the bureau three years earlier. It hasn’t really mattered to him. He doesn’t want to go out and about, though, if he’s told Magnus he’s working. The odds that he’d be caught in the lie are small, but it’s not worth the risk.

He wakes up to find a text from Izzy saying she finally has eight consecutive hours off and she’s catching up on people’s lives and what the _hell_ happened to his Facebook page? Why does it suddenly say he works for a catering company? He doesn’t want to text her and risk the texts being read, so he calls her – although it occurs to him as he’s dialing that someone could have easily cloned his phone or installed a listening device or – he forces that train of thought to a halt. He’s got no reason to think either Magnus or Asmodeus are suspicious of him. He needs to be cautious, but not paranoid.

“Alec, what the hell?” Izzy greets him.

“I got a job going undercover,” he says. “But I got caught before my cover identity was prepared, so they had to make some tweaks to my real life.”

“That sounds dramatic,” Izzy says. “Tell me all about it.”

It occurs to him that this could be helpful. For one thing, Izzy gives the best relationship advice out of anybody he knows. Secondly, since Asmodeus clearly wants to meet his family, it might be helpful to have Izzy available at some point. Third and lastly, he can talk to her in a way that he certainly can’t talk to his superiors.

So he gives her the lowdown on what happened and where he’s at so far. She makes appropriate noises at appropriate times and then immediately pins down the problem. “Okay, but like, if you and Magnus are actually a match, is it really a cover? Or is it just you lying to the guy who thinks you’re his boyfriend?”

Alec winces. “I don’t know, Iz. I’m not . . . I don’t like doing this. Magnus is . . . he seems to be a really decent guy, and he’s definitely not involved in Asmodeus’ operations. I _told_ my boss that and asked them to pull me out, but they won’t. As long as I’m dating Magnus, I can get close to Asmodeus.”

“Ugh,” Izzy sums up concisely. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know what I _can_ do. If my bosses won’t pull me out, I don’t have any way to get into a protection program that would keep Asmodeus from being able to find me. Which means I’m kind of stuck where I am. I can’t just ghost Magnus. He could find me, and he’d be well within his rights to demand an explanation. So I guess I’ll just keep dating him and hope that he won’t have me murdered when he finds out who I really am.”

“Oh, geez,” Izzy says, and Alec can just _see_ her pinching the bridge of her nose. “That’s a terrible plan.”

“Do you have a better one?”

“You could tell Magnus the truth.”

“I thought about that, but there’s way too good a chance he’d go tell his father everything. I mean, he likes me, sure. But we’ve only known each other three days, and he’s known his family twenty-five years. It sounds weird, but Asmodeus seems to be a genuinely good father. Magnus won’t be happy that I’m trying to get him put in jail, even if he doesn’t really approve of what his family does. Telling him the truth seems like a really good way to get myself killed.”

Izzy sighs. “I guess you’re right about that. I don’t know what you should do, to be honest. One piece of advice, though – actually, you can consider this an order. Do not – I repeat, do _not_ – have sex with this man. That would be the world’s shittiest thing to do.”

Alec winces. “I know. I haven’t even kissed him yet. But I’m also worried about blowing my cover. Like, from what I can tell, a lot of people who match in a binding ceremony move right in together and get married like, the next week. Magnus seems okay with taking it slower than that, but there’s only so slow I can take it before he’s going to suspect that something’s up.”

“I appreciate your dilemma, Alec, but that doesn’t change the fact that if you have sex with him under false pretenses, you are the world’s worst person.”

“Yeah.” Alec sighs. “I know.”

Izzy hears the note in his voice and says, “Look, does he know about all the shit Mom gave you when you came out?”

“I mentioned it briefly, but I didn’t really want to get into it.”

“Well, it makes a great excuse for not sleeping with him. Internalized homophobia is a hell of a drug.”

Alec snorts. “Thanks for that. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“You really like him, don’t you.”

“I do,” Alec groans. “God, I really do. And I mean, it’s not just sex, he’s incredibly gorgeous and he dances like – never mind, you don’t need to hear that from me,” he says, and Izzy giggles. “But he’s also so smart and warm and funny, and I want to wrap him in blankets and make him cocoa and make him watch, like, every zombie movie I love. I want him to be scared and hide his face in my shoulder. I am such a God damned cliché.”

Izzy is still laughing. “Yes, you are, and it’s amazing. Hey, send me a pic.”

“I don’t have one.”

“So ask him for one!”

“Um . . . okay, I guess I can do that.” Alec pulls his phone away from his ear and switches over to his texts. It’s only midday, early enough that he wouldn’t be at his job yet, so he texts Magnus saying, ‘Hey, send me a pic?’

A few minutes later, his phone practically falls from his nerveless fingers, because the picture Magnus sends him involves him wearing little booty shorts and nothing else, looking over his shoulder at the mirror and smirking. “Oh my _God_ ,” Alec chokes out.

“What?” Izzy asks.

“The pic he sent – ” Alec clears his throat. “Is. Um. Not for you.”

Izzy laughs so hard that she probably sprains something. “Better send one in return if you don’t want him thinking you were put off by it.”

“So I can’t have sex with him, but sexting is okay?”

“Keep your pants on.”

Alec groans.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go!” Izzy chirps. “Talk to you later, big bro. Call me if you need more advice.”

She hangs up before Alec can say anything, and he sees he has a text from Magnus that’s a little smiley and then the words, ‘your turn’.

“Shit,” Alec swears, and goes into his bathroom. He knows the literal definition of nothing about how to take a sexy selfie. He takes off his button-down shirt and the T-shirt he was wearing underneath it, then puts the button down back on but leaves it undone. After a pause to think about what he might like to see in a picture of someone else (mainly Magnus), he undoes the button and zipper of his pants and pulls them slightly apart. He’s glad he’s wearing black boxer briefs today instead of tighty whities. He pushes his hair back out of his face, puts on what he hopes to hell is a seductive expression, and snaps the pic. Then he sends it before he can think better of the idea.

It must not be terrible, because Magnus texts back a row of flames and then a winky face.

‘Seriously though,’ Alec texts, before things can escalate, ‘I wanted a pic I could send my sister.’

‘Oh!’ Magnus texts a row of the face that’s laughing so hard that it’s crying. ‘That’s embarrassing. Here.’ He follows it up with a regular picture, fully clothed and still obviously trying not to laugh.

Alec forwards it to Izzy, who texts back a minute later with, ‘If that’s your idea of sexting, you really need to get out more.’

‘No! I had him send me a new one.’

‘Oh, okay. But damn, big bro! 13/10, hot af.’

‘IKR?’ Alec texts back, and then goes back to the screen with Magnus and texts, ‘My sister says 13/10.’

Magnus texts back a blushing emoji, then thankfully changes the subject, talking about what movies are out and what Alec might want to see. They chat for about another hour before Alec says he has to go to work, and Magnus sends him another picture of himself blowing a kiss.

“I’m so screwed,” Alec says to that picture, and puts his phone in a drawer before he can stare at it all evening.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for discussions of abusive relationships and previous/feared violence against animals, which I know can be very triggering for some people. <3
> 
> also just a note that Camille is a warlock in this universe, rather than a vampire, because ... mainly because I need her to be out and about during daylight, LOL

 

Their third date is just as fantastic as Alec had half-hoped, half-feared it would be. They get sushi and wander around Soho for a little while before heading to the movie. Magnus’ taste is somewhat eclectic, but Alec’s tendency is to like mysteries and thrillers, so they see _Get Out_ , which turns out to be just as good as the reviews made it sound.

Magnus is clearly planning to portal himself home again, but he walks with Alec to the nearest subway station. “Once I’ve been to your place, I’ll be able to open a portal to it so you can take the shortcut, too,” Magnus says, but somehow says it in a way that doesn’t seem pushy. They stand right by the subway’s entrance for a few moments that are less awkward and more electrically charged. “Good night, then.”

“Night,” Alec chokes out, takes two steps down the stairs, then turns around and jogs back up just before Magnus can turn away. He grabs him by the front of the shirt and pulls him into a kiss. It’s _glorious_. Magnus’ arms come up around his waist and his lips part underneath Alec’s and it’s everything he could have dreamed it would be. Alec kisses him until they’re both breathless, and he pulls away rather dazed. “I’ll see you soon,” he blurts out, and then turns and jogs down the stairs before Magnus can say anything.

He’s still replaying the kiss over and over again in his mind when he gets back to his apartment. He almost immediately ducks into the shower so he can jerk off while replaying it some more, before collapsing into bed.

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s seriously debating how soon he can see Magnus again and exactly how far they can go before it makes him the world’s worst person. His subconscious keeps trying to argue that his relationship with Magnus is _real_ , so it’s not like he’s pretending to like him just to get into his pants. He reminds himself several times that this can’t go anywhere, that as soon as he’s gotten information on Asmodeus, his bosses are going to change his name and buy him a house in somewhere like Des Moines.

 _Doesn’t that mean you should have sex with him while you can?_ his subconscious asks, and Alec tells his subconscious to shut the hell up while trying not to admit that it’s a valid point. He makes himself coffee and spends some valuable time banging his head against a wall.

Two minutes into the mug, he becomes aware that something’s wrong. His stomach is starting to feel uneasy and he’s getting dizzy. What begins as a strange rumbling graduates into severe nausea and then almost immediately into staggering pain. It feels like his entire abdomen is being turned inside out. He stumbles for his phone to call 911, but ends up curled on the floor in fetal position, his entire body shuddering.

“Aw, that looks uncomfortable,” a woman’s voice says, and Alec looks up through blurry vision to see Camille Belcourt leaning over him.

“What – what did you give me?” he manages to choke out.

“Digitalis,” Camille says, still smiling. “Just a little on the inside of your coffee filter. Don’t cry, you big baby,” she adds. “It’s not enough to be fatal. Not this time. I just wanted to have a little chat with you about our good friend Magnus Bane.”

Alec wants to respond, but can’t. Instead, he manages to heave himself up to his knees just before he vomits everywhere. His entire body is wracked with it.

“Pay attention,” Camille says, stepping on his hand with one heel. “Magnus belongs to me. Do you understand?”

Alec nods, still heaving and now coughing a little as he tries to inhale without choking.

“If you go anywhere near him again, the next time, it’ll be strychnine. Understand?”

“Yuh,” Alec says, as his stomach is finally emptied. He rolls onto his side and curls up again as the red hot pokers continue to do a dance around his insides.

“Good!” Camille smiles again. “I’m so glad we had this talk. Your symptoms will probably last about twenty-four hours. You should probably just set up camp in the bathroom.”

With that, she opens a portal and is gone. Alec tries to crawl to the bathroom, but can’t. The world is suddenly spinning and looping around him. He manages to get to his phone. He’s not taking chances on whether or not Camille was telling the truth about the dose. Even if she _didn’t_ mean to kill him, digitalis causes cardiac symptoms, which can always be unpredictable. He dials 911 and asks for an ambulance. He debates momentarily whether or not he should tell them that he’s an officer of the law, but decides against it. If Magnus hears about this and comes to see him, he doesn’t want anybody mentioning that.

Four minutes later, the ambulance is there. He tells the EMTs the truth, that his boyfriend’s ex had poisoned him, she said it was digitalis but of course he doesn’t know whether or not she was telling the truth. They load him into the ambulance and get him to the ER. He throws up twice on the way, even though his stomach is basically empty. Everything is moving incredibly fast in one moment and then slow as molasses the next. He’s barely aware as they get an IV in him and tape electrodes to his chest. He hears something say something about PVC, and hyperkalemia, and he focuses on breathing and hoping he’s not going to die.

He thinks it’s a few hours later that he returns to something like a normal state of being. One of the doctors is checking on him, and he rasps out, “Hey, can I have some water?”

“Sure.” The doctor gets him a cup and says, “You’re pretty lucky, Mr. Lightwood. If she hadn’t told you what she gave you, you might have ended up in a lot more trouble before we could start your treatment.”

“I take it that there’s an antidote for digitalis?” Alec asks, sipping the water.

The doctor nods. “We’re going to keep you overnight just to be on the safe side, but you should be fine. There’s going to be a police officer coming in to see you soon.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Alec takes a few minutes to think about how his cover persona would handle this. He doesn’t want either Magnus or Asmodeus upset, but he doesn’t want them suspecting something’s up if the police _don’t_ immediately go arrest Camille Belcourt for attempted murder. Then he realizes he’s being an idiot. Camille doesn’t know about his cover. She’ll certainly think he’s going to tell the cops, and she’ll be sure that she’s somewhere she won’t be found.

So when the officer comes in, Alec doesn’t mention being undercover. He tells the truth – he’s dating Magnus Bane, and his ex-girlfriend Camille took exception to that fact with extreme prejudice. The officer nods and takes detailed notes and says that they’ll contact him if they need further information.

A nurse asks if there’s anyone they want him to call, and he asks if his phone got brought with him to the hospital. She checks in his belongings and says no, so he says he doesn’t have family in town and unfortunately doesn’t know Magnus’ number by heart yet. He’s only dialed it the one time.

In any case, he’s fairly sure Magnus is going to hear about this sooner rather than later. Asmodeus has contacts in the NYPD, and he’s certainly going to hear about an arrest warrant for Camille. It would take two questions or fewer to find out what happened, and then only a few more to find out where Alec is. Presumably, then Asmodeus will tell Magnus so he can rush to Alec’s side, which is sweet, if somewhat embarrassing.

But it’s not Magnus who shows up an hour later, when he’s dozing between bouts of nausea. It’s Asmodeus himself. The man walks into Alec’s hospital room as if he belongs there, and winces a little when he sees Alec. “I have to admit that I was hoping it wasn’t as bad as it sounded, but, well. Here we are.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about all the . . .” Alec gestures to his surroundings.

“I don’t think you need to apologize for having been poisoned, do you?” Asmodeus says, and Alec shrugs a little. “I assume that what you told the officer was true? About Camille?”

Alec nods. “Yeah.”

Asmodeus sighs. “You know, I thought that she was taking it rather well, but . . . unimportant.” Asmodeus waves this off. “A few things you should know. I have long wished that Camille Belcourt would stay five hundred miles away from my son at all times, and I have often wondered why he continued to associate with her. That being said, her father Philip and I are close business associates. Philip actually saved my life about twenty years ago, from a sniper who had gotten a bead on me. This incurred a life debt - which, between warlocks, is more than just words. It’s an actual magical effect that keeps me from ever harming Philip - not that I would - or any of his progeny. Including Camille.”

Alec feels like a lot of things are suddenly clear. “So when she started mistreating Magnus, there wasn’t anything you could do.”

“Just so.” Asmodeus nods. “This, however, has crossed a line. Even Philip agrees. I would like very much to remove Camille from the face of the earth. Unfortunately, it isn’t as easy as simply doing so. Camille is a powerful sorceress in her own right, and, well. Do you know what a death curse is?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, I get the idea, but I don’t know the details.”

“Every warlock can use the moment of their death to fuel a spell. Most of the time it reflects damage back onto their killer in revenge, but Camille . . . I have a feeling she would direct hers differently. These spells are often very powerful and difficult if not impossible to dodge. I will have to be very careful in removing Camille, and it’s something that might take some time. Suffice to say, it may be several weeks, months, or even years before I can safely make sure that Camille would not be able to harm you again.”

“Great,” Alec says, and his stomach twists again. He swallows carefully and says, “I - I need to puke. D’you mind?”

Asmodeus hands him the basin sitting by his bed for just this purpose, and holds it steady while Alec wretches into it. Then he gets him a glass of water and calls for the nurse, who removes the basin and replaces it with a clean one. “The doctor said you’d probably still have some nausea and vomiting throughout the day.”

“Yeah, he told me.” Alec leans back against the pillows, suddenly exhausted. “So is that why you came? To explain why you couldn’t kill Camille?”

“I came to find out what your intentions are,” Asmodeus says. “I love my son, Alec. I want him to be happy. You are his match. Those words don’t have the same weight to you that they do to me, but I hope they do have some weight. I want to know whether or not you think Magnus is worth the risk.”

Alec takes a deep breath and studies his hands. “Honestly? I don’t want to leave Magnus. He’s . . . amazing,” he says, and sees Asmodeus’ lips twitch. “But I also really don’t want to be poisoned again. So I just . . . I guess I don’t really know what to do.”

“Which seems fair. If you’re willing to continue to see my son, I will do everything in my power to make sure Camille doesn’t get near you again. Whatever security you would like, magical or technological, I can provide. Believe me, I haven’t lived as long as I have by being vulnerable. Can I guarantee your safety? Not one hundred percent. But about ninety-five percent. The choice is yours.”

Alec nods slowly. “I know a little of who you are, even though there are details I don’t have and don’t want. If you think you can keep her from getting her hands on me to that degree of certainty, then yeah. Magnus is worth it.”

Asmodeus smiles, a bright expression which is strikingly like Magnus’. “I knew I had a good feeling about you, Alec.” He stands and says, “By the time you get out of the hospital tomorrow, I’ll have a new apartment for you. I’ll do the defensive spells on it myself. No one in New York City is safer than the people under my protection.”

“Thanks,” Alec says, then hesitates. “About, uh. About the job offer.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose as someone with a catering company, you must work in different venues all the time, which would make security extremely difficult. I’ll find you something.”

Alec clears his throat. “Can I be honest with you, sir?”

“I prefer it at all times.”

“I don’t know the extent of your businesses, but I’ve heard rumors. I’m really not comfortable with any job that would make me do something illegal. I’m not trying to pass judgment on you. I’m just saying, that’s not really the sort of thing that’s in my wheelhouse.”

Asmodeus nods. “Understood.” He doesn’t seem put off by the words at all. “Most of that would be above your pay grade, anyway.” He waves this aside. “Oh, by the way - should I call Magnus and tell him you’re here?”

Alec has been thinking about that since Asmodeus came in. “I would prefer if you didn’t. He’s going to be upset enough about this without seeing me like . . .” He gives a gesture at the hospital room. “I won’t lie to him, but if I can understate it, it’ll hopefully keep him from blaming himself for what Camille did.”

“An excellent point.” Asmodeus nods again. “All right, then. I’ll be in touch with you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Asmodeus says, and leaves without saying goodbye. Alec considers all this for a few minutes before throwing up again. It’s going to be a long day.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Although Alec spends most of the day feeling terrible, by that evening, the worst of it seems to be over. He manages to get more sleep than he would have expected. The doctor checks him the next morning and says he’s okay to be discharged. About an hour later, he’s wheeled out of the hospital, and he walks down to the subway. He thinks about getting a coffee and his stomach lurches. He’s not sure he wants to drink it ever again.

He’s also lost his favorite mug. The coffee maker has been removed from his apartment and there’s dried puke on the floor. He considers just leaving it there, since he’s apparently going to be moving anyway, but his sensibilities get the better of him and he cleans up. He picks up his phone to see three texts from Magnus. Two are from the evening before, reading, ‘hey, what are you up to’ and then ‘are you at work?’ The third is from this morning, and it reads, ‘Everything okay?’

Alec doesn’t want to get into it over text, so he just replies with, ‘Sorry, my phone died last night. Want to meet for lunch?’

‘Absolutely,’ Magnus replies. ‘Where?’

‘How about we have a picnic? I’ll bring the sandwiches if you bring the lemonade.’

There’s a quick negotiation, and they agree to meet in Prospect Park. Alec grabs the food and meets him there about a half hour later. Magnus has beaten him there, and has spread out a classic red and white checkered tablecloth, and has a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice. He smiles when he sees Alec approaching.

Alec is laughing. “Where did you even get this tablecloth? Don’t tell me you already had it.”

“Magic,” Magnus says. He snaps his fingers and the colors of the fabric change into more of a Persian rug, then again into a medieval tapestry, before morphing back into the red and white. Alec laughs and sits down again, taking out the sandwiches and a container of fresh fruit. Magnus pours them both a glass of wine.

Alec would prefer to leave the discussion until after they’ve eaten, but Magnus opens the conversation with, “So were you working last night?”

“No, uh . . . it’s kind of a long story.” Alec looks at his sandwich, sighs, and puts it down. To be honest, he’s not sure if he’s ready for solid food yet anyway. “I was, uh, sick. Kind of.” He waves this aside as he sees Magnus’ expression of concern. “Sorry, there’s no good way to say it. Camille poisoned me.”

“Camille _what_?” Magnus shoots up off the blanket like he’s planning to portal across town and wring her neck.

Alec catches him by the wrist and pulls him back down. “Camille broke into my apartment while we were out having sushi and laced my coffee filter with digitalis. Then, when I was writhing on the floor the next morning, she told me that I was not to see or speak to you ever again. So I spent the next twenty-four hours, uh, it’s better not to describe them, actually. We haven’t known each other long enough for you to hear about my gastrointestinal distress.”

“Oh my God.” Magnus presses his hands over his face. “Alec, I am so sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry because your ex-girlfriend is homicidal. I mean, if for no other reason, you did warn me that she might try to kill me.”

“I told myself I was exaggerating, but . . .” Magnus is quiet for a few moments. “Why are you here?”

“You mean, I assume, why am I eating sandwiches with you in public instead of having changed my name and moved to Timbuktu?” Alec asks, and Magnus’ mouth tightens, but he nods. “Well, partly because I don’t want to not date you just because Camille is homicidal, but also, your father came to see me in the hospital - ”

“You had to go to the _hospital_? Was it really that - ”

“I went to the hospital as a precaution.” Alec reaches out and takes Magnus’ hand, giving it a solid squeeze. “Camille told me that the dose wasn’t fatal, but it didn’t seem smart to take her word on it, you know? So I called myself an ambulance. Your father came to see me in the hospital and he’s going to get me a new place. Said he would do the protections on it himself.”

“Even so.” Magnus shakes his head. “You don’t know what Camille is capable of.”

“Uh . . . I’m pretty sure I do, after yesterday.”

Magnus is quiet for a long minute. “Do you like cats?”

Alec is caught off guard by this abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah? I mean, they’re okay. Fuzzy little things generally are.”

“I adore cats. I’ve always wanted one. Camille is why I don’t have one.” Magnus lets out a breath. “When I was a teenager, I had tropical fish. It was a hobby of mine, and of course my father was happy to indulge me. I loved the colors. I had an extremely expensive tank and a variety of beautiful fish. When I was twenty-two, the first time I tried to break up with Camille, she poured bleach in the tank and killed them all.”

Alec’s stomach twists, and he doesn’t think it has anything to do with poison. “Jesus.”

“So no matter how much I want to have a cat, I’ve never dared get one. I’ve spent a lot of time not allowing myself to care about anybody or anything who could be vulnerable. It’s so hard to explain - ” Magnus cuts himself off. “When I met her, she was bright, and funny, and, and so full of life and laughter. I adored her. I would take her out dancing. We would stay up all night and watch the stars. And if she could get a little cruel to strangers, it didn’t bother me that much. I was already from a world where everyone had two faces. It wasn’t a problem for me if Camille had her other side. But . . . as we got older, I started to realize that unlike my father, she really just pretended to be kind. Jealousy was the first sign. She didn’t like it when I went out without her. When I started providing fashion advice to women, she got extremely upset. Accused me of cheating on her repeatedly. I tried to reassure her that it didn’t mean anything, but she only got worse. I started to lose clients because she called them and threatened them. So I broke it off with her. First she killed all my fish, then she called me sobbing and apologizing for having done it, saying that she couldn’t stand the idea of me being with someone else, that nobody would ever love me the way she did.”

Magnus’ voice trails off. Alec just holds his hand. “I’m not going to tell you the long, sad story of myself and Camille. It got to the point where I just wanted to get _away_ from her. And I thought - this, she _had_ to respect. The magic, the ceremony - even _she_ couldn’t interfere. But of course, she can. Camille always get what she wants. She’s told me that over and over again, and at some point it really should have sunk in.”

“Camille is not getting what she wants this time,” Alec says firmly.

Magnus shakes his head. “I can’t let you do this, Alec. Not for me.”

“See, that’s Camille talking,” Alec says. “That’s what she told you, isn’t it? That you’re not worth it. That nobody besides her would ever love you, that you didn’t deserve anybody else’s love.” Alec puts his finger underneath Magnus’ chin, makes Magnus look at him. “But that’s not true, Magnus. I’ve gone on three dates with you and I, I think you’re amazing. I like you so much already that to be honest, I’m a little frightened of how much I’ll like you after three months, let alone three years or three decades. I’m not going to let her scare me away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Magnus looks startled at this series of proclamations, and then he leans in. Alec kisses him softly, gently, a little more each time. “Thank you,” Magnus finally says. “You know, you’re amazing, too.”

Alec’s face flushes. “Oh, uh, I’m not really, I mean, I’m just - ”

Magnus kisses him again, and Alec certainly isn’t about to argue with that. When the kiss ends, they stay quite close to each other, just breathing for a moment. The moment is broken when Magnus’ phone rings. Both of them jump a little, then laugh at themselves. Magnus takes out his phone and says, “My father,” before swiping to accept. “Hello, Father. Ah, yes, he’s with me. I’ve heard the whole story, you don’t need to worry about hiding things.” There’s a long silence. “Okay, sure. Just text me the address and we’ll meet you there in about an hour. Thanks.” He hangs up and says to Alec, “My father has procured your new apartment but realized he didn’t have your phone number.”

“Okay,” Alec says, and frowns slightly. “He’s probably got me something eight times nicer than my current place, didn’t he.”

“Oh, yes. And if he knew about the conversation we just had, he probably would have gotten you something eight _hundred_ times nicer.” Magnus takes a bite of his sandwich, then says, “Although, you know, it is worth asking - I know we’ve been trying to take things slowly and honestly, that’s fine, but you could - I would be happy to have you.”

Alec gives a wry little smile and says, “Does Camille know where you live?”

Magnus winces. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll take my own place until your dad can track her down and put a more, um, permanent halt to her vendetta against me.” Alec sips his wine and says, “Which you should probably know he’s told me he’s going to do.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different,” Magnus says. “She’s crossed a line. For my father to overlook something this egregious would make him appear weak. As my match, declared publicly, you’re his son, a part of his family. He couldn’t tolerate an attempt on your life, not even from someone in the Belcourt family.”

“Okay.” Alec sets to his sandwich.

“What about your job, though?” Magnus asks, frowning. “Security might be difficult.”

“Yeah, uh, your dad said he would find me something,” Alec says.

Magnus doesn’t look thrilled. “I don’t know about that, Alec. The family business . . .”

“I told him that I don’t really want to be involved in anything illegal. He was fine with that. I mean, do you really think he couldn’t find me a one hundred percent legitimate job?”

At this, Magnus laughs. “I suppose that’s true. He has plenty of friends, and people who owe him favors, who have legitimate businesses. Hell, he even has some of his own. He launders money through them, of course, but other than that, it’s all legal and above board.”

“Well, if handling some dirty money means I don’t have to break up with you but also don’t get murdered by Camille, I think I can handle it.”

“Put like that, it’s hard to argue,” Magnus says, and lifts his wine glass in a toast.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really how I wanted the pool-hall-date to go in canon. XD
> 
> Chapter is mildly NSFW.

 

The apartment that Asmodeus has procured _is_ gorgeous, but it’s not the palatial penthouse that Alec had been half afraid it would be. It’s also fairly close to Magnus’ loft in Crown Heights, which Alec hasn’t seen yet but is hoping he will soon. He reminds himself firmly that he can’t have sex with Magnus, can’t take this too far. He already feels bad about the conversation they’d had over sandwiches. The problem is, it’s all one hundred percent true. Everything he said about Camille, about Magnus, about how he feels - none of it is a lie. It’s just the part where he’s trying to destroy Asmodeus’ organization - that’s the only thing he’s lied about. He reminds himself of that, but he doesn’t think Magnus is going to be happy about it, regardless.

Moving is easy when portals are involved. Asmodeus calls a car - an actual limo - to take them to Alec’s apartment in Queens. Then he simply opens a portal between the two apartments and moves everything through with a wave of his hand. Of course, Alec doesn’t have anywhere near enough furniture for the place, and what he has looks shabby and out of place. But Asmodeus doesn’t mention it, and to be honest, Alec is glad that he doesn’t have to talk Asmodeus out of buying him an apartment full of furniture. He already feels guilty enough.

Asmodeus’ two faces make it hard to hate him. The lengths he’s going to in order to make sure Alec is safe, the degree to which he obviously cares for his son - Alec knows that he does terrible things, but he still can’t shake the feeling of guilt when he lets Asmodeus help him. This feeling is made worse when Asmodeus gives him a silver ring etched with runes. “This is basically a panic button,” he says, when Alec gives it a questioning look. “If Camille shows up, or if you feel you’re in danger – get a little of your blood on the runes and it will alert me, and I’ll be able to use the signal to portal to you directly, even if you’re somewhere I’ve never been before.”

“Wow,” Alec says. He slides the ring onto the index finger of his right hand. He’s about to say it’s a little loose when it shrinks to fit him perfectly. “Thanks.”

“Oh, that reminds me, about the job,” Asmodeus says. “I have one that I think will be perfect.”

Magnus looks a little wary, and Alec forces himself to remain neutral as he says, “Oh?”

“Bartender!” Asmodeus says, smiling. “One of my private clubs is in need of one. The last one got caught skimming. They’ve been doing interviews to replace her, but it can take time - background checks, security screening, et cetera - so today I called them up and told them not to worry, I have the perfect employee ready to go.”

“That sounds great,” Alec says. “Do I still get to have the drunks thrown out?”

Asmodeus laughs that genuine, hearty laugh. “You’ll have to take it up with the club’s manager.”

“Seriously, though, it sounds perfect,” Alec says, and it does. Forget listening in on Asmodeus’ one-sided phone calls. If he gets an ear inside one of his private clubs, he’ll be rolling in useful intelligence. “I really appreciate it.”

“Let me get your number,” Asmodeus says, taking Alec’s phone for a few moments. “All right, I’ll text you the address. Be there at four thirty sharp tomorrow. Dress casual - there’s a uniform, I’ve already given him your sizes.”

“I’d ask how you have my sizes, but . . .” Alec shakes his head.

“Nothing nefarious. I just looked at your clothes while we were moving them.” Asmodeus glances at his phone. “Ah, I have to run. I’ll see you again soon.”

He portals out of the apartment without another word. Alec looks around and says, “Well, I seem to recall you promising to let me show you some zombie movies.”

Magnus laughs. “Yes, absolutely. I can’t stay all day, more’s the pity - one of my clients texted me an SOS earlier, she has her first date with an extremely classy gentleman and I need to be at her place by five so I can get her ready. But I’m free until then. I understand you have to start with Dawn of the Dead?”

“It’s the classic,” Alec says, and heads over to his DVD player.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Once Magnus has gone for the evening, Alec texts Raj, writes up his report, and heads back to the bodega. It’s certainly a doozy of a report. Some of it his superiors are probably already aware of, since they will have almost certainly notice that there’s a warrant out for Camille Belcourt’s arrest. He explains the situation and gives them his new address. Then he tells them that he’s gotten a job at one of Asmodeus’ clubs and should be able to get them more intelligence soon.

The club turns out to be called ‘Edom’, and it’s classy as hell. Alec sees immediately why there’s a uniform, because he’s given an actual tuxedo to wear and most people don’t own an entire closet of tuxedos. The manager quizzes him briefly to make sure he actually does know how to make drinks, then has him fill out some paperwork. He’s behind the bar by six.

Edom has its share of solitary drinkers, but it also has private rooms in which people conduct business. Alec is a bartender, but he’s also a sommelier, which means that he’s occasionally called in to give recommendations for wine. When he delivers the wine and other drinks, they generally don’t stop having their conversation. This is going to be easy.

He’s happy about the fact that he’s getting a wealth of information, but he suspects it’s for the wrong reasons. He _should_ be happy because he’s going to succeed at his job and put a lot of very bad people in jail. Instead, he’s happy because it’s less time that he’s going to have to deceive Magnus. The reaction is going to be awful anyway, but he thinks it will be less awful, the less time he’s had to lie. He’d prefer weeks over years, and he knows that deep cover assignments often do last that long.

It’s the match ceremony, he thinks. Asmodeus trusts him because he’s Magnus’ match. But what does that mean about Magnus? Maybe the blow-up won’t be as bad as he thinks it will be. Maybe Magnus will be completely okay with the fact that Alec is an undercover cop.

And maybe pigs will go winging past the window, Alec thinks glumly.

Still, the fact that Asmodeus trusts him because he’s Magnus’ match means that Asmodeus really might not understand the depths to which Magnus is uncomfortable with their family business. He wonders what Asmodeus would do if he knew.

It’s just past eleven when he sees Magnus slide into the bar, looking absolutely gorgeous in a jacket done in peacock colors, a sheer black shirt, and tight black pants. Alec only barely manages not to spill orange juice all over the bar. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I came to visit, of course,” Magnus says, smirking. “Appletini, if you would?”

“Coming right up,” Alec says, his face faintly flushed.

He only barely has a chance to serve it before getting called to one of the private rooms, and it takes him about ten minutes to recommend drinks and then get them made and served. Magnus is still at the bar when he gets back, and he says, “By the way, if I’m being clingy, please let me know. I just wanted to see you.”

“I wanted to see you, too,” Alec says, and Magnus’ smile returns. “I mean, it was like, over twenty-four desolate hours.”

“Horrible,” Magnus agrees. “What time do you get off work?”

“Not until two.”

“I’m still up at that point but I’d understand if you aren’t.”

“Give me a little time to adapt to the new schedule. Besides, they only need me three nights a week. This job pays six times more than my other one, and your father paid for a year’s lease on the apartment, so . . .”

“Weekends are busiest for me as well. Monday night, then? We can get a drink and shoot some pool.”

“It’s a date,” Alec says.

Magnus glances over as someone else comes up to the bar. “I won’t keep you, then.” He leans over to plant a kiss on Alec’s cheek before finishing his drink and heading out of the club.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec likes the atmosphere at the bar Magnus meets him at. It’s dim, but not too dark, and the beer is great. They each get a drink and then head over to the pool table. Alec played plenty in college, and he breaks like a pro and lines up his next shot. When he makes it, he sees Magnus make a little pouting face, and realizes it would be poor manners to kick his ass, even if he’s capable. So he flubs his next shot.

“Haven’t you heard the saying?” Magnus asks as he leans over. “If you can’t tell who’s being hustled at a pool hall . . . it’s probably you.” He punctuates that statement by skipping the cue ball _over_ the eight ball and knocking one of his own into a pocket. Then he straightens up, smirking in a manner that sends all of Alec’s blood rushing south. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Alec says, hoping that his face doesn’t give him away. “Yeah, let’s play.”

They end up playing three games. Magnus wins the first, but Alec is starting to get into a groove, so he wins the second. They agree to play a tiebreaker, and Magnus takes off his jacket to reveal the loose turquoise shirt underneath. Every time he leans over the table, Alec finds himself staring at his ass, and he starts finding it difficult to concentrate. Magnus wipes the floor with him.

“Want to play again?” Alec asks, and his voice skips a little. He hopes Magnus doesn’t notice.

Instead of replying, Magnus glances around and then beckons Alec with the crook of one finger. Alec isn’t sure what he’s going for, but he walks over to him, and Magnus promptly takes him by the wrist and tows him into the men’s bathroom.

“Oh, okay, I,” Alec manages, before Magnus is kissing him. All thoughts vanish from Alec’s brain, and he parts his lips under Magnus’, trying not to moan. Magnus kisses him like there’s nothing else to want, nothing else to need. Alec can’t stop himself from tugging at Magnus’ shirt and sliding his hands up underneath it in the back. His fingers trace along Magnus’ spine, making him shiver.

Magnus pulls away and starts hastily undoing the buttons of Alec’s shirt, kissing down them as he drops to his knees. “Oh, fuck,” Alec says, as Magnus undoes his pants. “Oh my God, fuck, Magnus – ”

“Shhh,” Magnus admonishes, looking up with a sparkle in his eyes that practically sends Alec over the edge before Magnus can even touch him. Magnus waves one hand, and a blue wave of magic goes towards the door, locking it. Alec wants to say something else, but then Magnus is tugging his pants down and the back of his head hits the wall as he feels Magnus’ mouth on him. Instinctively, involuntarily, he twines a hand in Magnus’ hair.

It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. He’s not exactly experienced, and he’s certainly never gone anywhere near this far with anyone before. He can barely breathe through the pleasure that’s curling in his gut, in his toes. His entire body is on fire with it. He makes the mistake of looking down again and sees Magnus looking up, his expression intent and focused and – “ _Fuck_ , Magnus, I’m gonna – ” is as far as he gets before he’s coming in Magnus’ mouth. Magnus doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

“Holy shit,” Alec says, sliding down the wall. His legs feel like jelly. Magnus crawls into his lap and starts kissing him again. Alec gets his hands underneath Magnus’ shirt again and strips it off him before starting to push him backwards.

“Half a second,” Magnus manages, and twists his fingers in a little loop, blue fire swirling around them. He conjures –

“Is that a blanket?” Alec asks, laughing.

“I don’t know what’s been on this floor and I don’t want to know. Kneeling on it is one thing, but if you’re going to – ”

Alec grabs the blanket and shakes it out before pushing Magnus down onto it, leaning down to press kisses into his throat, his collarbone, his chest. Magnus lets out a soft little gasp as Alec starts undoing his belt. Alec pulls away a little and admits, “I don’t really know how to – is it okay if I just – ” He stops talking and wraps his hand around Magnus’ cock.

“Oh my God, _yes_ ,” Magnus says, as Alec rubs his thumb over the head. “That is no problem _at all_.”

Alec laughs again, before he leans back down to nip at Magnus’ ear. He strokes him slow and firm, then faster, then slows down again. He keeps the rhythm varied to draw things out. He might not know a lot about sex, but, well, jerking off is something he has a _lot_ of practice at. He sees that Magnus is biting his lips to keep from making noise and kisses him again. Magnus returns the kiss hard and frantic, one hand twisting in the collar of the shirt that Alec is still wearing. Without meaning to, Alec strokes him faster. Magnus pulls away with a gasp, his head tilting back. Alec can’t help it; he leans in to the crook of Magnus’ neck and starts pressing kisses against the soft skin. He feels Magnus’ whole body shudder and then Magnus is coming in his hands.

They kiss a few more times, slow and lazy, as Magnus’ body relaxes. “We should play pool more often,” he murmurs, and Alec snorts with laughter. Magnus sits up and glances around before conjuring up a wet washcloth to clean up with.

“Damn, that is a handy talent,” Alec says, watching him.

“I’m just full of talents,” Magnus says, and leans in to murmur right into Alec’s ear. “How about I take you home and make love to you properly?”

Alec wants to say yes, more than anything else in the world. In fact, if Magnus had phrased it any other way, he might have agreed. But those words, ‘make love’, kill his libido in a split second. He remembers all of a sudden that he’s lying to Magnus, that Magnus will almost certainly hate him when all this is over. “I, uh.” He practically chokes on the words. “I can’t – well, shouldn’t – that is – ” He sees the look on Magnus’ face change to something that’s more concern than anything else. “This was – great, really, but I think I should head home for the night. I, um, I’ll call you tomorrow.” He gets to his feet and only barely manages to get his pants done before he fumbles with the lock and flees the bathroom. His departure is so abrupt that Magnus doesn’t even have time to call out after him.

It takes fewer than five minutes for his freak-out to hit critical mass. He doesn’t want to go back to his apartment – he’s half afraid Magnus will have beaten him there. Asmodeus’ protections keep him safe from Camille, but not from Magnus. Or what if Magnus calls his father, upset? What if he finds a pissed off underworld kingpin at his place?

He goes to Izzy’s instead, and has barely locked the door before he’s dialing her. “I’m the world’s worst person,” he blurts out.

“Oh, Angel,” Izzy sighs. “You slept with him, didn’t you.”

“Not – exactly? But we were playing pool and he, he took me off guard, it’s not like I _asked_ him to blow me in the bathroom, and after that it would have been rude not to return the favor – ”

“Stop talking,” Izzy says, and Alec lets out a physically pained groan. “Did you run away?”

“I ran away,” Alec says, face flushing with shame.

“Perfect. You are an idiot. But I don’t think you’re actually the world’s worst person, if only because you’re obviously madly in love with this guy, so, you know. The deception isn’t about your feelings for him. At least there’s that. Did you _say_ anything before you ran away?”

“I told him I’d call him tomorrow,” Alec says. “I might have said other stuff but I don’t remember. I’m screwed, aren’t I. Worse, I’m _not_ screwed, nor am I ever going to _be_ screwed – ”

“Alec, calm down,” Izzy says. “You’re hardly the first person to freak out after a sexual encounter goes further than they really meant it to. I can practically guarantee you that Magnus is going to apologize to _you_ next time you talk to him. He probably figures that after he got carried away in the moment, you felt pressured to respond.”

Alec blinks. “Does – does he really think that? Oh, God. I have to call him. It wasn’t his fault – ”

“Yes, I know that, but if you don’t to tell him the truth about why you _did_ run away, you’re probably better off letting him think that.” Izzy sighs. “Just, try to get some sleep. Isn’t it after midnight in New York?”

“Yeah, but I’ve been working nights lately.”

“Then watch a movie, chill out for a little while. In the morning, text him asking to see him. Tell him you’re sorry you freaked out, things moved a little fast and you didn’t know how to handle it. He’ll apologize. Just _accept_ the apology and don’t make a big deal out of it. Okay?”

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” Alec lets out a breath. “Thanks, Izzy. I’ll talk to you soon.”

She says goodbye and hangs up, and Alec manages to take a few deep breaths and calm down. He heads back to his own apartment, because on the off chance that he wasn’t being totally paranoid and either Magnus or Asmodeus _does_ swing by, it’ll look odd if he’s not there all night. But the apartment is dark and silent. He works out for a little while, which helps calm him further, and then sits down with a movie. He wonders if he should be worried that Magnus hasn’t texted him, but Izzy’s probably right. Magnus is probably letting him have a night without contacting him, which could in theory come off as pressuring him further.

He manages to get some sleep, although it’s restless. He’s up not long after sunrise, despite the late night, but he can’t text Magnus too early. So mostly he paces around until his phone buzzes at eleven AM and he nearly falls over trying to get to it. But it’s not Magnus; it’s Raj, saying he has an update from Alec’s superiors. Alec sighs and heads down to their new meeting spot, a coffee shop down the street. He still doesn’t want to have coffee, so he gets himself some tea and a croissant.

The update from his superiors is telling him which of the people he’s managed to eavesdrop on are the most pertinent. He’ll have to try to get closer to them. He wonders if his bosses understand that his job as a bartender doesn’t give him choices in the way of which customers he serves and which he doesn’t. He sighs and burns the sheet of paper in the kitchen sink. Then he picks up his phone. After consideration, he texts, ‘Sorry I freaked out last night. Can we meet? Maybe at the gardens?’

‘Sure,’ Magnus says, bare seconds later, proving that he’s been sitting on his phone and waiting for Alec’s text all morning. ‘I’ll meet you by the lily pool?’

‘Okay. I’ll be there in about 15.’

‘I’ll see you then. And no apologies necessary.’

Alec finishes his tea and heads out. His stomach is churning as he goes into the gardens and heads for the terrace. He sees Magnus already there, which is unsurprisingly since he probably portalled there. He jogs up the steps feeling awkward. “Hey. Thanks for meeting me.”

“Thanks for texting me,” Magnus says. He reaches out for Alec’s hand, and Alec takes it. Magnus starts walking, leading them into a more private part of the gardens. “I confess I spent most of last night worrying that I had ruined everything.”

“No, no, you didn’t,” Alec says, waving his hands as if this would indicate how profoundly things were not ruined. “I just – I freaked out, and I – ”

“Alec,” Magnus says, “I understand.”

Alec winces a little, thinking that he’s really very sure that Magnus _doesn’t_. He takes a deep breath and prepares to launch into the speech he’s been rehearsing, about his parents and homophobia and things moving too fast. He looks at Magnus’ patient expression and beautiful eyes and blurts out, “Magnus, I – I’m a cop.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, he freezes. A thousand thoughts go through his mind in the space of an instant, about how stupid he is, how Magnus is going to hate him, he’s going to lose his job and probably get killed and that’s not even _accurate_ , it’s just so much easier to say than ‘I’m an undercover FBI agent with the supernatural organized crime division’. He looks at Magnus, cringing at the open surprise on his face, which shifts into something else, something like – amusement?

“I know,” Magnus says.

Alec chokes. “You – what?”

Magnus makes a quick gesture with his free hand, sending a wave of blue magic up around them and creating a little bubble. “I’ve known since the day we met.” Magnus gives him a smile that’s a little wistful. “After I realized I hadn’t thought to get your number, I called the catering company to ask for it. They, of course, had no record of you working there. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what you must have been doing there. The only question was which law enforcement agency you were with. Your superiors changed all your Facebook info, but they didn’t go through and delete all your tagged photos. There are several of you in gear from George Washington university – you wear that sweatshirt a lot – and I know they have a pre-FBI program, so I’ve been assuming you’re an FBI agent. Am I right?”

“Oh my God.” Alec pushes both hands through his hair. “Yes, yeah, that’s – really? You didn’t say anything, you must _hate_ me, why did you even give me the time of day?”

“You’re my match,” Magnus says. He shakes his head a little. “I know why you didn’t tell me. I might have told my father, and he might have killed you. Honestly, I don’t know if he would or not. My father puts great weight on the ceremony, but there _are_ limits. He’d probably overlook my match being a cop, but _not_ one that wasn’t honest about it.”

Alec winces. “I’m sorry. Really, honestly, I am. I told my superiors – as soon as I found out that you weren’t involved in his business, I told them that it was wrong for me to lie to you. But they wouldn’t pull me out, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“I can understand that. You really did end up caught between a rock and a hard place. But I’m there with you, Alec.” Magnus turns to face him, taking both his hands again and squeezing them. “Trust me. You’re not alone in this.”

“You can’t – why would – I mean – ” Alec has to stop and organize his thoughts. “For all you know, I’ve lied to you about everything.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow. “Have you?”

“No,” Alec says immediately.

“Well, all right then.”

“But I might be lying about not lying,” Alec persists.

“A man who was lying about not lying wouldn’t have refused my offer last night, wouldn’t have balked at having sex with someone he was deceiving.” Magnus reaches out and rubs his thumb over Alec’s cheekbone. “You’re my _match_ , Alexander. I know how I feel about you. And I know how you feel about me. I know that wasn’t a lie.”

Alec flushes bright pink. “God, you – you are so incredible.” His voice chokes up a little. “Thank you. I, I don’t even know what I’m thanking you for, just, just for being you, I guess – ” He sees Magnus smiling at him and forgets how to make words into sentences. “What – what now?”

“Well, now that we’ve gotten that cleared up,” Magnus says, leaning in to press his lips against Alec’s ear, “how about you let me take you home and make love to you properly?”

“I, uh, yeah, that,” Alec gives up on language and just kisses Magnus with everything he has. Magnus kisses him back just as passionately, and opens a portal with one hand, sending them stumbling into Magnus’ loft apartment. “But we need to talk,” Alec says faintly, as Magnus starts undoing his shirt. “I mean, we need to figure out what to _do_. I can’t ask you to help me – ”

“Later,” Magnus murmurs against his mouth. “There will be plenty of time for that later. The problems aren’t going away. They’ll still be there in the morning.”

This makes Alec pull away, momentarily stymied. “In the _morning_? Magnus, it’s barely noon, how long do you . . . think we can . . .” He sees the amused glint in Magnus’ eye and then just blurts out, “Yeah, okay, the morning – that, that sounds good, we can – ” He nearly trips over his own feet trying to take off all of his clothes at once.

“Let me give you a hand there,” Magnus says, and kisses him again.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter has some discussion of drug use/addiction, suicide, and the use of homophobic slurs.

 

It genuinely is the next morning before Magnus and Alec sit down to talk. They don’t spend _all_ of that time having sex, just most of it. They do manage to watch a movie, and order some takeout. The next morning, Alec wakes up first and makes French toast. He doesn’t quite feel comfortable raiding the refrigerator for expensive things – although there are plenty there – but eggs, bread, and milk are fair game. He also tries to start the coffee maker, but it’s too complicated for him to figure out.

“What are you even doing to that poor machine? It’s screaming like it’s in pain.” Magnus comes out of the bedroom laughing, wearing a silk robe. He looks so gorgeous that it’s all Alec can do not to grab him around the waist, set him down on the counter, and start running his hands through Magnus’ hair. He doesn’t even dare kiss him, because he’s fairly sure that it will end – well, not badly. Amazingly. But they’ve had sex four times already and they really need to talk at some point. Despite the fact that the steam coming out of the coffee machine really does sound like screaming.

Magnus takes the coffee mug out of his hands, still chuckling quietly as he starts the machine working. “Is that French toast you’re making?”

“Yeah. Hungry?”

“Starving.” Magnus opens the refrigerator. “I should have some cheese and some fruit in here. Maybe some lox . . . although that wouldn’t really go with the French toast . . .”

They manage to put together a fairly decent spread, and both of them are hungry after their day and night of strenuous activity, so for a few minutes they’re more interested in eating than in talking. When Alec tries to bring it up, Magnus says, “Let’s eat first, all right?”

Finally, after they’ve eaten and cleared the table and have taken their coffee out to the balcony, Magnus says, “So why were you at the ceremony? I presume you were undercover.”

Alec nods. “They, uh, they picked me because I did a year bartending when I was in college, so they knew I would be able to fit in. So, you know, the work history wasn’t all fake. The idea was just – I mean, so many influential people in the same room at the same time – it was too good a target pass up, you know? The, uh, the end result was definitely _not_ planned.”

Magnus laughs. “I didn’t figure.”

“Actually, the fact that everyone ‘knew’ you were going to choose Camille,” Alec continues, making air quotes with one hand, “was taken into consideration when they decided putting someone in was a good idea.”

“That makes sense,” Magnus says with a  nod. “Despite your lack of knowledge about the situation with Camille.”

“So I ducked out of the party as soon as I could – full disclosure, I do not get that drunk off three martinis – and then called my boss and told her everything. Honestly, I don’t know what I thought they were going to do. I mean, if I had actually put money on it, I would have bet that they were going to fire me. Huge conflict of interest, you know? That or they would change my name and transfer me to some Podunk town in Nebraska or something.”

“You didn’t foresee ‘go undercover’?”

“I have no training in this sort of thing! And it’s a God damned good thing that I actually like you, because the odds that I could have successfully faked it were pretty much nil.”

Magnus gives a little snort into his coffee. “Well, there’s no crime in being an honest person. Though in some circumstances it’s not recommended. Like when you’re an FBI agent who just wound up semi-engaged to a crime lord’s son.”

“Yeah . . . that probably doesn’t happen to many people,” Alec says.

“One would think not.”

“So yeah. They told me to go undercover. That was just before I met you at the gardens the first time. After I realized that you weren’t actually, uh, involved in your father’s organization, and that I wouldn’t be either, I contacted my superiors to tell them that and request new instructions. But they told me to stay the course. Said that through you, I could get to your father.”

“Which makes sense,” Magnus says, “despite being a dickish thing to do.”

“I didn’t want to, but . . .” Alec rakes both hands through his hair. “The aforementioned rock and hard place came into play at that point. I thought about telling you everything, but I was afraid that, you know, you’d tell your dad, and . . . I was also afraid you wouldn’t want to be with me. Which sounds really lame, I know. Like, worrying more about losing my boyfriend of a week than getting murdered by the mob.”

Magnus snorts. “Well, I think the one was more likely than the other.”

Alec thinks this over for a long minute. “Which?”

“My father killing you.” Magnus leans over and gives him a long, slow kiss. Alec has to put down his mug of coffee so he can take Magnus’ face in his hands. “Although to be honest, I _was_ sort of wondering when you were going to get around to telling me.”

Alec winces. “I just didn’t know how.”

“Which is certainly fair. I didn’t either. Letting you believe I didn’t know wasn’t as big a lie as the ones you were telling me, but it _was_ a deception on my part. I didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. I should have told you at the beginning, but I was wary then, unsure of what you wanted from me. And the more sure I got of _that_ , the less I knew how to bring it up.” Magnus shakes his head a little. “All in the past. We seem to have come through it with no major scarring, so let’s move on to more important issues. What have you reported back to your superiors?”

“Data on your father’s house. They won’t move on him there, though, the security is too good. A few things I picked up about your father directly - like the thing about Atlanta he mentioned when I was there the first time. But after that, mostly things that I picked up at the bar. Things that don’t relate back to him directly.”

Magnus nods. “That makes sense. The job at the bar must be a great place to gather intelligence.”

“Yeah, to be honest, I would have worried that your father was on to me if it weren’t for everything that had happened with Camille. Which my superiors also know all about, as you might imagine.”

Magnus winces and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m still sorry about that by the way.”

“You don’t need to be. None of that was your fault.” Alec finishes his mug of coffee. “But you’d know better than I would if I should be worried. You figured out who I was easily enough.”

“Oh, my father certainly ran a background check on you, but he wouldn’t have done it until the next day,” Magnus says. “He was incredibly busy at that party, with so many people vying for his attention. So by the time he would have gotten around to checking into you, your superiors would have changed everything in your record. And he wouldn’t have gone through the catering company like I did; he has people who do this sort of thing for him. Your superiors knew how to hide you from him, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“Okay.” Alec lets out a breath. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. My father is a man of many talents, but subtlety is not in his playbook. If he had found out your true identity, he wouldn’t give you a job and wait for you to gather evidence on his operations before doing something about you. That’s just not how he goes about things.”

Alec nods a little, relieved. He thinks this over for a few moments before saying, “Magnus, I can’t ask you to help me. The fact that you haven’t told your father about me is more than I have the right to ask you.”

“Maybe, but . . . I’ve thought about it, you know. Going to the police. I know what my father is, the harm he causes. He’s my father. I love him, and he’s always loved me and supported me in everything I’ve done, everything I’ve ever wanted to do. But he ruins lives. So sometimes I’ve thought about it. But I’ve never been able to bring myself to do it. Maybe that makes me a coward.”

“I don’t think so,” Alec says. “Family can be complicated.”

“Yeah.” Magnus nods. “That’s a good way of putting it. But I’ll admit I don’t know what I want to do. I want my father stopped, but I don’t want him killed.”

“Killed? Magnus, it’s not - ”

“Yes, Alec. It is.” Magnus sighs. “I’m sorry if you don’t want to believe that about your superiors, but trust me, they don’t intend to take him alive.”

“You can’t know that,” Alec says.

“I can, and I do. You think you’re the first person from the police or the FBI to make it close to my father? You’re not. It’s happened at least three times just that I know about. And every single one of those times has ended in an attempt on my father’s life. The one at his sixtieth birthday party very nearly succeeded.”

“Jesus, they tried to kill your father on his birthday?” Alec says.

“Long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime.” Magnus shakes his head a little. “The point is, my father is too dangerous to try to take alive. To be honest, even killing him would be damned nigh impossible.”

“He mentioned that Camille’s father had saved him from a sniper once.”

“Yes, that was nearly twenty years ago now. Since then, he’s developed a spell that works like a full body suit which can deflect bullets and absorb the impact. Snipers won’t work anymore.”

“Are you sure you should be telling me that? I could - ”

Magnus waves this aside. “They already know. The last two attempts have not involved snipers or even gunfire. I don’t know which of their spies managed to get that intelligence, but they definitely passed it along to their superiors. What they’re going to want from you isn’t just the information to build a court case or to dismantle my father’s organization. Mark my words, what they will want from you is very specific information about a time and a place where they can be guaranteed that my father will be there.”

Alec grimaces. “Yeah, one of, uh . . . one of their communiqués did mention that. That information about his movements was very important, and they needed information about something your father would want to personally oversee or supervise.”

“So you see.” Magnus sighs quietly. “They’ll go for explosives. Enormous, blunt concussive force is really the only thing that the shielding spells don’t protect my father from. The easiest way to do it would be a car bomb or a downed plane. But my father never travels in the traditional way, because he can just portal. The only time he can’t is if he’s going somewhere he’s never been before. And even then, he’ll portal to a random location and then travel from there. It’d be impossible to get to him that way. So that means waiting for a time and a place you know he’s going to be, and setting up explosive charges ahead of time.”

“But the collateral damage - ” Alec says, and sees Magnus sigh again. “Look, I, I believe you, I believe that people have tried to kill your father before, but try to see this from my point of view. It’s a little hard to swallow the idea that they would just assassinate someone instead of having him arrested the way they should.”

“I can see that,” Magnus says. “I’m just speaking to my experience.”

They sit in silence for several long moments.

“Like I said, I just . . . don’t know what to do,” Magnus says. “I want my father stopped. I want to make sure he can never hurt anyone ever again. Which, you know, I actually might be able to accomplish. There are spells that can bind people against doing harm to others.”

“Would you actually be able to do that?” Alec asks, frowning.

“I’m probably the only person in the entire world who could,” Magnus says. “There aren’t many warlocks as powerful as he is. I . . .” He pauses dramatically. “Am not one of them.”

Alec laughs despite himself.

“But I’m close. If he’s a ten, on a scale of one to ten, then I’m a nine. Which means that with the element of surprise, which I would have, I could do it. Now, he could break it afterwards. But it would backlash onto the caster. And he wouldn’t risk that. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“That’s . . .” Alec hesitates. “Are you sure you really want to bet on that? I know your father cares about you, but . . .”

Magnus gives a half smile and says, “The fact that I don’t really want to bet on it is why I’ve never gone ahead and _done_ it. It’s a comfortable bet, but not a certain one.” He shakes his head a little. “And I don’t know how you would feel about it. If we bind my father, I don’t know what would happen next. Since the police aren’t interested in arresting him, and I’d really prefer he not end up dead, would he just retire and go to Fiji? God knows he has the money, but it would hardly be justice for his victims.”

“Look, let’s just be honest here, okay?” Alec says. “In the grand scheme of things, death probably would be justice. But we can’t do it like this. That’s not how the justice system works. He’s supposed to have a trial and, and be sentenced to prison like he deserves. That’s the way the law works. That’s why I became an FBI agent and that’s why I took this assignment.”

Magnus nods a little. “So you want to do the binding spell and then bring him in.”

“Yes,” Alec says, nodding, relieved that they’ve got a plan.

“Which would only work if your superiors were willing to bring him in rather than having him killed.”

Alec winces a little, then rallies. “Yes. But if the whole point is that he’s too dangerous to bring in, that wouldn’t apply after he was bound.”

“That’s true.” Magnus is quiet for a few moments. “I’ve had mistrust of law enforcement drilled into me since I could walk. I want to believe that you’re right about your superiors, but I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“That’s fair. It’s your father’s life on the line.” Alec thinks it over. “But we can set it all up, figure it all out, before we give them the information. We’ll be the ones calling the shots.”

Magnus thinks this over. “That sounds like it could work. We’ll have to be careful, but I think we could do it.”

“Okay.” Alec lets out a slow breath. “And you’re okay with that? Truly?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yeah. More than.”

“Good.” Magnus moves himself into Alec’s lap and puts an arm around his shoulders. “That’s enough serious talk for now, I think. Have I mentioned that my apartment has a Jacuzzi?”

Alec laughs. “You have now.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

It surprises Alec, but things settle into a routine. Without the stress of hiding things from Magnus, everything gets much easier. He makes drinks and recommends wines. He learns the structure behind Asmodeus’ kingdom, identifying the major players and their contributions. He maps out who’s behind the different drugs and the weapons deals, the protection rackets and the extortions. He’s relieved to find out that Asmodeus actually _isn’t_ involved in human trafficking. He has money in some high-class escort services, but as far as Alec is able to ascertain, the prostitutes are well-paid and willing to be there. The call about Atlanta was about smuggling people into the country, but it turned out they were vampires looking for a better place to live than Eastern Europe. Vampirism is illegal in the United States, but still a lot safer.

As Magnus had originally predicted, he doesn’t see much of Asmodeus himself. Now that he’s satisfied himself that Alec is treating Magnus right, he’s busy with his own business. Alec sees him occasionally at Edom, but it’s never because Asmodeus came to see him specifically. Asmodeus does make it a point to say hello, but it’s usually a three-sentence conversation at most, before Asmodeus goes to see whoever he’s meeting with.

By the time he’s been there a month, he has enough information to arrest almost everyone in Asmodeus’ operation, but there are still a few key players that he’s trying to pin down. He sends all his information back to his superiors, and he assumes that when they have enough, they’ll tell him to stop dicking around and figure out how to get a bead on Asmodeus himself.

Everything else is going well. He still has his own apartment, but spends at least half his nights at Magnus’. They haven’t seen hide or hair of Camille, although Asmodeus mentions briefly that he hasn’t been able to track her down and put an end to her. Alec doesn’t worry about it as much as he thinks he probably should. He’s so happy to be with Magnus that he really just doesn’t care.

Dating Magnus is, frankly, a ridiculous experience. “The world is your oyster,” Magnus says, before taking him out for sushi in Tokyo. He’s traveled the entire world, and there are a hundred places he wants Alec to see. Alec thinks of a few on his own, although they’re generally lower key. They alternate date ideas – Magnus takes him to Venice to ride in a gondola, and then Alec takes him hiking in the Catskills. They find an isolated spot on top of a mountain and see more stars than Alec had ever known was possible. They make popcorn and watch old movies. They become one of those obnoxious couples who hold hands _everywhere_ and take way too many selfies.

Unlike the Hellfire club, Edom rarely gets noisy. It’s a classy sort of place, and most of the people there know better than to get rowdy. This doesn’t stop the occasional customer from having too much, however. They’re usually pretty reasonable when Alec cuts them off and tells them that he can call a car to get them home.

Of course, sometimes they also insist that they can handle it. “‘M fine,” is what the drunken customer is slurring at Alec. He’s sneering, belligerent, clearly of the opinion that Alec is too far beneath him to tell him what to do. Alec doesn’t remember what his name is, but he’s seen him more than once.

“No, you’re not fine,” is Alec’s calm response. “You’re done for the night. I can call a car for you, or you can make your own way home.”

“D’you know who I am?” the man shouts, enraged, drawing the attention of almost everyone in the club.

“If you’re so drunk that you have to ask me what your name is, then you’ve definitely had too much,” Alec responds, and several people nearby snicker at the response.

The drunk man, however, is not amused. He draws himself up to his full height and then spits in Alec’s face. “You wouldn’ dare talk t’me like that if you weren’t fucking that faggot ass bitch that Az calls his son, you fucking cocksucker - ”

Alec stares him down. “So you’re not just drunk, you’re also a bigot. Am I supposed to be impressed?”

The man reaches over the bar. Alec grabs him by the wrist before he can get the collar of his shirt, twisting his arm around behind his back and pulling him halfway across the bar. The man lets out a yelp of pain, while several of the onlookers clap. A few moments later, the bouncer comes over. He grabs the guy from Alec and drags him out the door.

Alec shakes his head and moves on to his next customer, who’s looking a little impressed with how efficiently Alec handled the drunk. He makes a few drinks, serves a few of the customers in one of the private rooms.

“Lightwood, go on break,” his boss calls to him at just past ten. He heads into the back and grabs his bottle of water, and is a little surprised to see a stranger in the employee break room. He eyes him suspiciously, not sure what this means.

“Sorry to bother you on your break,” the man says. He’s obviously a warlock, with scales that cover both of his hands and arms, but a friendly expression. “I wanted to apologize about what happened earlier. Vincent is an employee of mine, and he was way out of line tonight.”

Alec shrugs. “Won’t be the first time I’ve had a drunk call me a nasty name, won’t be the last.”

The man smiles. “You seem to be a forgiving sort of man, Alec. Can I call you Alec?” he adds, and Alec gives another shrug. “I was hoping to ask you for a favor.”

“Which is?” Alec asks. He’s annoyed to be interrupted on his break, but any intelligence is good intelligence.

“For you not to mention what happened tonight to Asmodeus.”

Alec takes a long drink of his water and goes into the refrigerator to pull out the lunch he had brought. It’s a little box of sushi. Magnus has put a note on it that has hearts drawn on it, and a smile rises to Alec’s lips, unbidden. “I take it that you don’t think he’d be as forgiving as I am?”

“Asmodeus hasn’t gotten where he is by being forgiving,” the man says. “Vincent's not a bad guy. He just can’t handle his liquor, that’s all.”

At this, Alec frowns a little, studying the stranger. “You seriously think that Asmodeus would kill someone for calling his kid a fag?”

“Asmodeus is . . . exceptionally fond of Magnus. He has a soft spot for him; everybody knows that. I don’t know that he’d actually kill Vincent, but he’d leave him out in the cold, blacklist him, and in our world, that comes to the same thing.”

“Okay, look, I don’t want anyone to get hurt over drunken insults,” Alec says, “so I won’t tell Asmodeus about it. But I also want you to know that your excuse for him is bullshit. Alcohol doesn’t make someone into a bigot. It just removes the inhibitions that usually keep them from spewing their bigotry all around everyone else’s face. So if I were you, I’d cut ties with this guy before he says something to someone who isn’t as forgiving, and you wind up going down with him.”

“Fair enough,” the man says, and leaves the break room without another word.

Alec shakes his head and goes back to work. It’s a little after two AM when he leaves the club and heads home, which now basically means Magnus’. He goes back to his own place occasionally, but spends far more time at Magnus’ loft apartment than anywhere else. Magnus is still up, practicing his katas on the balcony, a view which Alec literally always admires.

“You look tense,” Magnus says, leaning in for a kiss. “Rough night?”

“Sort of. Weird night.” Alec shakes his head. “Some drunk guy got pissed at me for cutting him off and said I wouldn’t dare if I weren’t your boyfriend, only he used a bunch of really nasty language. Which, fine, I dealt with that shit all the time when I was a bartender in college. But then this other guy asked me very nicely not to tell Asmodeus that the drunk had called you nasty names, lest he wind up in the harbor.”

Magnus rolls his eyes and says, “If my father knew one tenth of what people have said to me over the years, he’d probably have an aneurysm.”

Alec snorts. “Well, he does seem to have very strong feelings about homophobia. But I guess I was curious about it. I don’t know what a normal relationship between father and son is supposed to be like, if we’re going to be one hundred percent honest. My father’s general way of reacting to me and my sister was to look at us as if wondering how and when these short people had gotten into the house. But I also don’t think it’s normal to resort to murder because someone calls your kid a slur.”

“True. Although I don’t actually think my father would. He would blacklist him, certainly, forbid anyone from doing business with him, but - in any case.” Magnus waves this aside. “No, my father has always been very protective of me - overprotective in some cases. Which I imagine is because of my mother.”

Alec sits down on the small ottoman on the balcony and pats the seat next to him. “You don’t talk about her much.”

“No. She died when I was seven. I’m the only child my father had with her - he had four with his first wife, three with his second, and four with his third - and then just me. So I imagine that’s part of it. And my father’s other marriages all ended in divorce. I believe, although I may be a bit biased, that he loved my mother more than all the other wives combined. It truly broke his heart when she died.”

“What happened?” Alec asks, as Magnus sits down next to him.

“She committed suicide,” Magnus says, and Alec winces. “Although I actually did not know that for a very long time afterwards. My mother struggled most of her life against depression and drug addiction. I think - maybe the reason it hurt my father so much is because he believed if he loved her enough, he could save her. But he couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec says.

Magnus nods a little. “When I was young, he just told me that she was sick, and she had had an ‘episode’ - that was what he called it when she relapsed, or when she was too depressed to get out of bed - and died. It wasn’t until I was in my teens that I learned the illness was depression, and the ‘episode’ that had killed her had been an enormous heroin overdose.” Magnus shakes his head a little. “That’s one of the few things my father and I ever really fought about.”

“About him hiding the truth from you?”

“Oh, no, I understood why he did that. About drugs. Despite the fact that he’s literally responsible for the path half the drugs take in and out of this city, he was always _very_ firm with me about how I should never, ever use them. When I got old enough to understand that, I had some choice words with him about his hypocrisy. That’s when he told me - that he was afraid I would inherit my mother’s addictive personality. Maybe he would even be right. I’ve never done anything stronger than pot, and never really even had much of a desire to do that.”

Alec shakes his head. “I’m sorry about your mother, but a little baffled by your father, to be honest.”

“I was too. Still am in some ways. But he doesn’t see himself as responsible. He just says that the drugs would get here, one way or another. Someone is going to profit off of it, so why not him? Maybe he’s right about that, too, but I don’t really want to believe that he is. I have to believe that _some_ good would come from deconstructing his empire.”

“Honestly, out of all the things your father does, the drugs don’t bother me as much as some of the others, like the weapons and the protection rackets and extortion.” Alec shrugs. “He’s right that there will always be crime, but that doesn’t mean we can just let it slide. If we let him get away with anything, the next person who comes along will be even more bold. You have to try to stop it wherever you can.”

Magnus nods. “I agree. Which you knew.” He leans over for a kiss. “But still, don’t tell my father. It wouldn’t go over well.”

Alec laughs. “Okay.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice early post today because I have Family Obligations. Enjoy!

 

Alec is just getting back to Magnus’ loft with dinner when he hears voices inside. He tenses a little, involuntarily, because one of them is a woman’s voice. He hasn’t forgotten about Camille, even if they haven’t heard from her lately. He pushes the door open and walks in a little cautiously, just in time to hear, “All right, I’ll see you Sunday, then.” That seems unlikely to be Camille, so he closes the door behind him and heads inside.

“Who were you talking to?” he asks, seeing Magnus turning away from his laptop.

“My sister Catarina,” Magnus says, standing up to help Alec with the food. “Are you ready for your first family gathering?”

“You tell me,” Alec says, laughing a little.

“You’ll be safe,” Magnus says. “It’s Rebekah’s clan, not Lilith’s.”

“Okay.” Alec takes out a container of dolmades. “Refresh my memory. Rebekah is the second or third wife?”

“Third,” Magnus says.

In the past few months, Alec has learned a lot about Asmodeus’ children. So many of them are integral to his business that it was crucial to get it all straight. It had been a jumbled mess at first, and here, Magnus’ input had been invaluable. Each of Asmodeus’ first three wives had given him multiple children, and each batch of children resented the one that came after them, thanks to their mother’s feelings on the matter. Lilith’s children hate Michelle’s children; Michelle’s children hate Rebekah’s children.

Six of Asmodeus’ children are actively involved in the family business. Lilith’s oldest son had a business rivalry with Rebekah’s oldest son, which had led to two of Lilith’s children splitting off into a competing organization after Asmodeus had sided with Rebekah’s son. Two other children – one of Lilith’s and one of Michelle’s – had left New York and did not stay in touch. Then three, along with Magnus, had chosen careers unrelated to Asmodeus’ organization.

Two of those are Rebekah’s other two children, as far as Alec can recall, so the family dinner likely won’t involve much in the way of family business. That makes him relax a little. Being undercover is hard enough; meeting Magnus’ siblings is something he’d prefer to do as a boyfriend, not as an FBI agent. Magnus, as the only child of a deceased mother, is on relatively good terms with all his siblings, or at least the ones that had stayed in touch. Since many of Magnus’ siblings were adults by the time he was born, he’s closest to Rebekah’s children, those nearest to him in age. There are hardly ever family gatherings that involve the entire family, due to the conflicts, but the children of a particular couple gather together with some regularity.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, as Magnus pours the wine. “It’s not about us, is it?”

“No. Actually, you met most of my siblings at the match ceremony. You probably just didn’t realize it. Not Catarina, though – she’s a doctor, and she was on call that night. She actually was there at the beginning, but had to leave before the ceremony itself.” Magnus takes a container of Greek salad and starts to eat. “But no occasion. We get together once every other month for lunch.”

Alec blinks a little, then shakes his head. “Right. Sometimes I forget that there are families full of people who genuinely enjoy each other’s company and get together just for fun.”

Magnus gives a snort of laughter at that. “If it seems more formal than it is, it’s just because Catarina and Jeremiah are so busy that we basically have to adhere to a set schedule if we want to have them there. Ragnor and I are more – ” He waves a hand. “Flexible.”

“Mm hm,” Alec says, unable to help himself.

Magnus feigns astonishment. “How uncouth, Alexander.”

“I would never,” Alec says solemnly, and leans over to press a kiss against Magnus’ temple. “Ragnor’s the writer?”

“Mm hm. You know Jeremiah from your research, I presume.”

“Yeah.” Alec hesitates. “You know that he’ll end up arrested, too? Along with several of your other siblings?”

“I know.” Magnus shakes his head a little. “They made their own choices, Alec. My father, for all his faults, never pressured any of us to join the family business. Jeremiah could have done anything – hell, with my father’s financial support, we’ve all had far more opportunities than the average young adult. He chose to join my father in running his business. Am I happy that he’ll go to jail? No. But I can’t say he doesn’t deserve it.”

“I kind of hope he’s a jerk.”

“He’s not,” Magnus says, amused. “But it’s Ragnor and Catarina that I’m closest to, so I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“Okay. Although . . .” Alec sighs a little. “I don’t know what’s going to happen . . . afterwards. You know? Just because you’re okay with your father and your siblings going to jail doesn’t mean that Ragnor and Catarina will be. I don’t know if they’ll figure out you were involved. Or that I was.”

Magnus frowns. “Admittedly, I don’t know the protocol for an undercover officer returning to his regular life.”

“Well, it’s usually a bit different because the undercover officer had an undercover identity,” Alec says, grimacing slightly. “Which is, to be honest, one of the reasons why I didn’t think my superiors would tell me to go undercover. My real identity was compromised from the get-go. So if, when, we take your father’s organization down, I can’t just cut my hair and go back to my old life.”

“They’ll give you a new identity.”

“And move me, almost definitely,” Alec says. “It won’t mean I’ll have to leave the agency. Hell, given how well things are going, odds are good I’ll get a promotion out of this. The information I’m getting at the club is going to be good enough to disassemble ninety percent of the organization if not more. On the upside, that means I’ll probably have my choice of where they relocate me to. So I can pick a big city, LA or San Francisco, somewhere that you can still do your thing.”

“Which I appreciate more than you know,” Magnus says, and Alec gives him a questioning look. “So many people over the years have called my professional frivolous, and beneath me. The fact that my ability to continue doing what I love is important to you, without even asking – that means the world to me.”

Alec flushes pink and looks away. “I never meant to – to uproot your entire life like this. I know that there are things neither of us can change, but I _never_ want to be someone who hurts you.”

Magnus kisses him, soft and lingering. Then he pulls away and says, “San Francisco would be nice.”

“Yeah, so, uh,” Alec clears his throat and tries to reorganize his thoughts, “that’s if things go well. If things _don’t_ go well, they’ll throw both of us in witness protection and ship us off to somewhere like Boise.”

Magnus makes such a horrified face that Alec is hard pressed not to laugh. “No, thank you, my darling. If it comes to that, _I’ll_ handle our protection. I can move enough money to some Swiss bank accounts and do good enough protection spells that we can relocate to Europe or Japan or somewhere a little less, shall we say, Idaho.”

Alec does end up laughing despite himself. “Hopefully it won’t go anywhere near that far. If you and I can relocate to San Francisco and then say that you just needed a change of pace after your family’s unfortunate downfall, hopefully you can stay in touch with Ragnor and Catarina.”

“They’ll figure it out,” Magnus says, “but they won’t say anything.”

“I’ll trust your judgment on that. You know them better than I do.”

Magnus smiles. “You’ll like them, Alec. They’re looking forward to meeting you. Which reminds me – I would love to meet Isabelle, you know. I’m sure she’s busy, but sometimes I feel like you’re avoiding putting the two of us in the same place.”

“I think I’ve just been enjoying having you all to myself,” Alec says with a laugh. “You might like Izzy more than you like me.”

“Categorically impossible, Alexander. You said she’s doing her residency in St. Louis?”

“Yeah. Wash U. Have you ever been?”

“No, actually. But I’ve been to Chicago many times, and I imagine a flight between the two would only be an hour or so.” Magnus leans over for a kiss. “Ask her for a good day to visit, and we’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Lunch with Magnus’ siblings is actually a lot of fun. Catarina is full of interesting stories and Ragnor tells great jokes. Even Jeremiah, who Alec is determined not to like, is friendly and welcoming. They have lots of questions for Alec and Magnus, and Alec does his best to answer them. “I can’t believe Dad got you a job at Edom,” Catarina says. “He must really like you.”

“After what happened with Camille, I think he would have given Alec anything he wanted,” Magnus agrees, laughing quietly.

“Any news on her?” Ragnor asks.

Jeremiah speaks up, shaking his head. “No, she’s gone to ground. Philip swears he’s not protecting her, but . . . in any case, she’ll pop back up before long. Patience was never her strong suit.”

“That is very true,” Magnus murmurs, and Alec reaches out to squeeze his hand.

Catarina has to leave after lunch, but the others head to one of Asmodeus’ clubs and shoot some pool. Alec has to try very hard not to look at Magnus, because he knows they’re both thinking of the last time they played pool, and if their eyes meet, he thinks his clothing might spontaneously evaporate. Jeremiah catches the looks they’re giving each other and starts teasing them, which Magnus puts up with for about half an hour before he magically seals Jeremiah’s mouth shut while Ragnor leans against the pool table, laughing too hard to talk.

“Shall we head home?” Magnus asks Alec, with a cheerful smile.

“Absolutely,” Alec says, and Ragnor just laughs harder.

The next weekend, they head to St. Louis to see Izzy. Alec hasn’t seen her in nearly six months, and she hugs him for a long minute before greeting Magnus. As Alec had expected, they immediately hit it off. Magnus might not like her _better_ , but they have a lot to talk about. Alec watches in amusement and then concern as they talk about fashion, food, travel, and then embarrassing stories from Alec’s childhood.

“I made such a mistake, bringing you here,” he says, mortified, as Izzy is regaling the story of the time Alec ate a hot pepper on a dare and cried in front of a bunch of other kids.

Magnus is laughing despite himself. “Izzy is less receptive to threats than my siblings.”

“Only because I can’t magically sew her mouth shut like you did to Jeremiah,” Alec says.

Izzy laughs and says, “Even if you could, you wouldn’t dare,” and Alec is forced to admit that this is true. “But I’m proud of you, given the mess you got landed with. You did good, big brother.”

“Thanks,” Alec mumbles, flushing pink up to the tips of his ears.

“Well, now that I’ve been here and can open a portal, you two can see each other more often,” Magnus says, smirking as he adds, “Presuming that you want to.”

“I plead the fifth,” Alec says, and Izzy snickers into her drink.

The head back to New York that night and Alec feels pretty good about everything, to be honest. He’s going to have to start thinking about his next moves at some point, but right now he doesn’t want to rock the boat. There’s still plenty of information on Asmodeus’ operations he can get that will help with the court cases, so he’s in no hurry to proceed onto anything that will make Magnus unhappy.

Which is why he’s somewhat apprehensive when Asmodeus strolls into Edom just before it opens and goes up to the bar. “Alec, good to see you. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

Alec blinks a little and says, “Uh, sure. I mean, I should probably ask what it is before I agree, but the spirit is willing.”

Asmodeus laughs his hearty laugh. “Magnus had mentioned to me at one point that your parents are in the Angelblood Society. Is that true?” he asks, and Alec nods. “I presume that you’re technically a part of it as well, even if you don’t participate?”

“Yeah, my parents registered all three of us,” Alec says, a little puzzled by this line of questioning.

“Do you know who Valentine Morgenstern is?”

Alec blinks. “Uh, I’ve heard of him. I can’t remember if he’s a politician or if he’s just some rich asshole.”

“Both,” Asmodeus says, amused. “But at the moment he’s a congressmen. He’s got a lot of ties to white collar crime and fraud, but nobody’s been able to get enough evidence of actual wrong-doing to get him thrown out. Until now, that is,” he adds cheerfully. “But I don’t want him thrown out of the Congress. I want him to stay there, and do what I say. Which at the moment, is dropping the ridiculous bill he’s sponsoring which basically criminalizes existing while warlock.”

“Oh, I heard about this,” Alec says. “Harsher sentences for warlocks even if magic isn’t involved in the crime, right?”

“Precisely. Plus he’s been fighting to bring back the death penalty for warlocks in states where it’s not used for humans. If he had his way, warlocks would be put to death for jaywalking.” Asmodeus rolls his eyes a little. “He’s a prejudiced piece of shit, and I need to have a chat with him. But he’s notoriously hard to pin down. Much like myself, to be fair.”

“Okay,” Alec says, a little wary.

“Morgenstern is also in the Angelblood Society. And three nights from now, he’s hosting a party for his ilk. The invitation I could forge, but he’s also going to have a rune detection system to make sure nobody ‘impure’ sneaks in. You happen to be the only person I know who could pass that test.”

“Oh,” Alec says, blinking. “Uh, okay. I mean, I don’t have any objection to wearing a fancy suit and going to a party, although I’m not sure what you want me to do once I’m there.”

“Well, it would be terrific if you could poison him,” Asmodeus says.

“Uh,” Alec replies.

“I’m joking,” Asmodeus says, with a chuckle. “You asked not to be involved in anything overtly illegal; I’m not going to ask you to kill a man. Even a terrible one. Besides, like I said, I’d actually like to keep him where he is. It’s just that his behavior needs improvement. I mean, I won’t rule out the possibility of killing him. Life is full of surprises. But it wouldn’t be my first choice.”

Alec laughs despite himself. “Okay. What do you need me to do, then?”

“I just need you to give him something. Generally speaking, I can’t portal to a place I’ve never been. But, certain objects can act as a summons, which allows me – or any warlock – to bypass that rule.”

“Like the ring you gave me,” Alec says.

“Precisely. If you give Morgenstern an object which I can use in this fashion, I can use it to find him, and have the private chat that I need to have with him.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“So that’s a yes?” Asmodeus asks.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, after everything you’ve done for me, I think I can handle going to a party and sliding something into a guy’s pocket. I have a question, though, or I guess more of a concern. My, uh, there’s a chance my parents will be there. They seriously go to every Angelblood Society event on the entire Eastern seaboard. If you’re planning on me being undercover, people there might know me.”

“Well, you shouldn’t need to be undercover,” Asmodeus says. “The reason I asked if you were formally registered in the society was so I knew whether the invitation could be issued under your name or if I would have to get you a false identity.”

“Okay, that’s fine, but . . . my parents know I’m not interested in this kind of thing. They’ll wonder why I’m there, and I doubt you want anyone looking at me too closely.”

“Mm . . .” Asmodeus considers that for a moment. “You don’t get along with your parents, you’ve said?”

Alec nods. “I haven’t even talked to them in over five years now.”

“Would you be particularly averse to them being extremely angry with you and never speaking to you again?”

“Uh . . .” Alec wonders where this is going. “We’re pretty much already there, so . . .”

“Oh, I doubt you’re at the level I’m about to suggest. How would you feel about attending an Angelblood Society party with your warlock boyfriend?”

Alec gives a short burst of surprised laughter. “That _would_ be a good way to get my parents to never speak to me again. But I see what you mean. Show up there with Magnus, make it seem like I’m crashing the party to make them look bad, cause a fuss. Yeah, my parents would definitely buy that I’m petty enough to do something like that. But what about the rune detection thing?”

“The invitee has to be a member of the society, but the plus-one doesn’t.” Asmodeus gives a little shrug and says, “I assume that there aren’t actually enough society members to keep the bloodlines one hundred percent pure, not without going into monarchy-level incest.”

“Yeah, that’s true. My mom and dad both have angelic ancestry, but it’s not uncommon for someone in the society to marry a human.” Alec smiles a little. “I probably shouldn’t be excited about doing this. I mean, my, uh, my relationship with my parents has always been fraught at best, but . . . this is going to be something else.”

“Well, don’t worry about them. You have a new family now. A better one.”

“Oh, yeah, the crime lord father that I always wanted,” Alec says, and Asmodeus lets out another one of those genuinely hearty laughs. “Still better, to be honest.”

“I’ll get you the details. I’m sure Magnus will be thrilled to find something for you to wear.”

“I’ll bet,” Alec says, laughing.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Magnus is, in fact, quite excited about the concept of dressing them both up for a formal party. He spends a great deal of time making Alec try on different outfits, which Alec goes along with because it makes him happy. Magnus decides that Alec cannot pull off an ascot, and lets him get away with a regular suit, black with a gray shirt and a maroon pocket square that matches the ascot that Magnus _can_ pull off.

The party is at Morgenstern’s fancy Chesapeake Bay estate, and although Magnus could portal them to the area, then they would have to rent a car to drive the rest of the way. After some debate, they decide to just drive down from New York. Neither of them own a car, but Asmodeus has a car service he uses regularly which provides one.

“So on a scale of one to ten, exactly how badly are your parents going to take this?” Magnus asks, as they head down I-95.

“About seven hundred,” Alec says.

Magnus winces a little. “Want to talk about it?”

Alec shrugs a little. “I don’t mind talking about it. I kind of got over it a while ago, you know? About the time that I was taking out huge loans to cover my last year of college tuition and working to pay for my room and board. It’s like . . .” He stops and thinks about it for a minute, thinks about where to start. “I figured out I was gay when I was around fourteen, and I already knew that it wasn’t going to fly. There was a business partner of my dad’s who had a son who was gay, and my mom had talked at length when he had come out about how bad she felt for his poor mother, how his prospects to bring honor to the family were ruined, et cetera. So I just . . . didn’t say anything. It might have been different if there was someone I was actually interested in, but there wasn’t, so . . .”

He trails off, thinking back to those teenaged days. Magnus lets him have his quiet, although he reaches out to momentarily rest his hand on Alec’s wrist.

“It’s funny, because talking about it like that, it makes it seem like I was one hundred percent okay with it and didn’t have any angst about it at all,” Alec says. “But believe me, there was a lot of angst. I just pushed it all down and tried not to feel it. I couldn’t have what I wanted, but, you know, I told myself there were lots of people who didn’t get things they want. It wasn’t a big deal.

“Of course, by the time I was seventeen, my mother was already picking out prospective brides for me,” Alec continues, and Magnus winces a little. “Fortunately, her idea of courtship didn’t involve a lot of actual courting. It’s the kind of thing the parents all set up, very old-school. More complicated, of course, by the Angelblood thing. Naturally, I wouldn’t be allowed to marry anyone whose angelic bloodlines weren’t pure.”

“Naturally,” Magnus murmurs.

“I ended up coming out during my junior year of college. On Christmas.” A smile tugs at Alec’s lips. “It’s kind of funny now that time has gone by. Izzy was dating this guy named Meliorn, and my mom _hated_ him. Totally beneath her, et cetera. He was an artist, and had fae blood rather than angelic, and just . . . oh, man. There are not enough words in the English language for how much my mother loathed this guy. Izzy, of course, acted like she didn’t care, but she _did_ care. Plus she was just going into college and she wanted to do pre-med, which my mother thought was all wrong for her and kept telling her she’d just flunk out of . . . anyway, literally over Christmas dinner, my mother asked why she was bothering with college at all if she just wanted to be some seelie’s whore.”

“She _didn’t_ ,” Magnus says.

“Oh yeah. Izzy was trying not to cry and my mother was just laying into her and I just freakin’ _lost_ it. I looked at Izzy and said loudly, ‘don’t worry, she’ll forget all about Meliorn once she figures out I’m gay’.”

Magnus bursts into laughter. “Oh, well done.”

“I was one hundred percent correct, too,” Alec says, grinning despite himself. “She _did_ forget all about Meliorn, or at least she forgot about him for the rest of the evening. She spent the rest of dinner talking about the shame I was going to bring to the family, and finally I just walked out. Didn’t come back ‘til a couple days later.

“Apparently that actually did make an impression on her, because she was in more of a conciliatory mood when I got back. She told me that she knew being gay wasn’t a choice, that I couldn’t help ‘being what I was’. Which seems like an improvement, except she segued directly into how I didn’t have to let it ruin my life.”

Magnus frowns a little. “Meaning?”

“The point she eventually made was that even if I was gay, that was no reason to _tell_ anybody that, or ever date a man, or _not_ get married and have children. You know. It’s totally okay to be gay. Just don’t ever act gay or let anyone know.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

“Yeah, pretty much. If I could have gone back to school draped in a rainbow flag, I would have. Anyway, one argument turned into two, turned into twelve, and the long and the short of it was that if I didn’t agree to a) stay in the closet, and b) date and/or marry whoever my mother found appropriate, that they would cut me off. I told her that I’d rather live in a cardboard box than marry whoever she picked out, and that was pretty much the end of that.”

“I can’t imagine how much courage that must have taken. My father, for all his faults, has always supported me in everything I chose to do.” Magnus shakes his head a little. “Up to and including divorcing his fifth wife because of it.”

“Oh, geez. What happened?”

“I was twelve, and she decided that it was time I ‘stopped playing with dolls’ and did something more masculine. I was abysmal at sports and hated the outdoors and getting dirty, and the harder she tried, the more I dug in my heels. And the more I dug in my heels, the more annoyed she got, until finally she tried to throw all my dolls away. There was one that had been a gift from my mother, and we wound up tussling over it. I got upset enough that I managed to summon my father from Yonkers, and when he figured out what was happening - Lord, I had never seen him so angry. He told her to get out, he’d send her her things, she’d get everything promised in the pre-nup but if she ever came near me again, he’d kill her.”

“Wow,” Alec says.

Magnus nods. “We rescued my dolls from the trash, and he asked what he could do to make it up to me, which is how I wound up taking cosmetology classes when I was thirteen.”

Alec laughs a little. “Were you the only thirteen year old boy there?”

“Yes, although not the only boy, period. The women loved me, of course. I was like a little mascot. Anyway, I look back sometimes and think about how hard my father must have been grinding his teeth when I was dating Camille - seeing that she was hurting me, sometimes in much the same way, and not being able to do anything about it.”

“Well, it all worked out,” Alec says, reaching out briefly to squeeze Magnus’ hand.

“For the moment,” Magnus says, and looks out the window. “I suppose once I have him arrested, he’ll never speak to me again.”

“I wish I could tell you differently,” Alec says.

Magnus lets out a breath. “Well, you survived losing your parents. I’m sure I can survive it, too. Now let’s talk about something else. How do you think your mother will react when she sees you?”

“Mostly she’ll want to know what the hell I’m doing there, how I found out about it, who invited me, et cetera. All questions I’m prepared to answer. She’ll tell me I have no right to be there, I’ll remind her that I do. Then she’ll want to know who you are, and if we’re lucky, she’ll kick up enough of a fuss that it’ll draw Morgenstern over. You can slip the token into his pocket while he’s distracted by me and my mother, and we’ll be good to go.”

“That sounds like a plan. Then we can get a fancy hotel room and have sex all over it to celebrate.”

Alec grins. “Sounds like a plan.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings that this chapter has some discussion of the use of date rape drugs and sexual assault in general ... take care of yourself, everybody! <3
> 
> Also I am probably being overly mean to the FBI ... but the canon!Clave are asshats so I felt free to represent them as asshats here. =D

 

They get the hotel ahead of time, so they can get dressed there and don’t have to spend a lot of time in the car in their fancy outfits. Alec tries to keep his hands to himself, which is difficult, because his hands itch to grab Magnus by the ascot and drag him in for a kiss. Magnus clearly knows what he’s thinking, and he keeps giving Alec these sideways smirks that just about kill him.

Still, there’s business to attend to. They get to the party fashionably late. Alec hands over the invitation that Asmodeus had given him. The man at the door takes him by the wrist and uses a piece of crystal to draw a rune on the back of his hand. It flares brightly for a few moments before disappearing. The man nods and reaches for Magnus’ wrist. Alec stops him, saying, “He’s my plus-one.”

The man looks disdainful, like he can’t believe someone in their society would willingly bring a human to their party, but allows them in. Alec looks around. They had planned strategy on their way there, but it’s going to depend some on whether or not he sees anybody he knows. He can’t just stand around and wait to be noticed, but he doesn’t know if his parents are there yet. The estate is enormous, and the party is being held mostly in a courtyard, but also in some interior rooms. It might take a while to make his presence known.

After a few minutes, he spots Hodge Starkweather, an old friend of his father’s, standing by a fountain. “Here we go,” he says, taking Magnus by the hand. It occurs to him briefly how ridiculous this is. His undercover alter ego is going in to a party undercover. He’s going to lose track of his identities if this keeps up. “Mr. Starkweather,” he says, extending his hand. Hodge turns to him, looking polite but blank. “Alec Lightwood. We’ve met before.”

“My God, Alec!” Hodge laughs. “It must have been at least ten years. I think you were still in high school last time I saw you. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“I’ve been living up in New York,” Alec says. “This is my fiancé, Magnus Bane.” They had agreed ahead of time that Magnus’ presence would draw fewer questions if he was introduced as a fiancé rather than as a boyfriend.

Hodge frowns faintly. Homophobia isn’t exactly rampant in the Angelblood Society, but since a lot of their purpose revolved around passing down their angelic blood, it was more common than not. “Good to meet you,” he says, a little wary. “What have you been doing with yourself, Alec?”

“I actually just opened up my own law firm,” Alec says. “Thought I’d come do a little networking, although I guess everyone here probably has lawyers a lot more prestigious than me already.”

At this, Hodge laughs. “Well, sure, but we always make room for one of our own. Let me introduce you to the Waylands – ”

Alec allows himself to be steered around and meet people he had absolutely no interest in. Magnus had questioned the ‘lawyer’ cover, but Alec had assured him that his parents knew absolutely nothing about what his actual career was. “Word won’t get back to your dad that I’m actually a cop, trust me,” he had said as they got ready. The last thing his parents knew was that he had been getting a degree in criminology from George Washington, which could have easily led to a career in law.

It takes about forty-five minutes, and they’re among the most boring forty-five minutes of Alec’s life, before his mother pushes through the crowd. She stops dead when she sees him, as if she had heard he was there but hadn’t been able to bring herself to believe it until she had seen him. “Alec,” she says, in a low voice that’s clearly trying to be pleasant. “What are you doing here?”

“Networking,” Alec says. “I have every right to be here. You and Dad made sure I was registered in the society. Oh, this is Magnus, my fiancé.”

Maryse is still trying to smile, to not give herself away, although it becomes strained at this. “You are being very inappropriate right now,” she says, in an undertone. “Your father is trying to conduct business tonight. Are you trying to embarrass him?”

“Oh, is Dad trying to get into bed with Morgenstern?” Alec asks, not bothering to lower his voice. “Seems a little above his pay grade, but hey, I’m proud of him. Follow your dreams, I always say.”

Magnus snickers quietly.

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood!” Maryse hisses. “That is your father and you will show some respect!”

Alec decides to tone it down a little. If his mother blows her stack before he manages to find Valentine, the whole party will be a bust. “Okay, sorry. How’s Max?”

Maryse gives him a wary look. “Your brother is fine. He, unlike certain other members of this family, understands how important good behavior is.”

“Well, he’s only thirteen. There’s still time for him to learn otherwise.” Alec picks up a glass of champagne off a tray as a waiter walks by. “Speaking of which, Izzy is finishing up her residency. She’s going to be doing her fellowship next year in infectious disease, so she might be moving back to the east coast. It’s going to be great having her around again. Maybe she can come to the next party.”

“I’m happy to hear she’s doing well,” Maryse says, still trying to smile.

“Yeah, I guess you were wrong about how she’d never make it in medicine. Hey, there’s Dad,” Alec says, and he’s relieved because his father is coming into the courtyard in a tight knot of other men, one of whom is Valentine Morgenstern. As much fun as watching his mother squirm is, he wants to make sure he actually does what he came here to do.

Robert does a double take when he sees his son, and looks somewhat uncomfortable as he walks over. “Alec, what are you doing here?”

“Networking,” Alec says. “I just opened a law firm. Introduce me to your friends?”

Robert looks at Maryse, uncertain, and Maryse gives a bare nod. She’s obviously thinking that introducing her son as a lawyer with a new practice is far preferable to whatever fuss he might kick up if she refuses. So Robert guides Alec over to the knot of men and says, “Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet my son Alec . . . he’s opening a law firm . . .”

Alec shakes several hands and introduces himself, saying his specialty is criminal defense law. He doesn’t think being a prosecutor would go over very well in this group of white collar criminals. He drops a few names of lawyers he knows from his work in the police, big cases that he’s familiar with in passing. Everyone is duly impressed, and it’s a little appalling how well he fits in with these people when he’s pretending to be someone entirely different.

Then someone notices finally notices Magnus, and when Alec introduces him, the man sneers a little and says, “I take it you don’t find keeping your lineage alive important.”

“Oh, well,” Alec says blandly, “you wouldn’t want me to reproduce with Magnus anyway, since he’s a warlock.”

Someone actually gasps, and it’s clear that all the men are taken aback. Valentine himself looks more disgusted than anything else, but one of the other men blurts out, “How did he get in?”

“I’m allowed to bring anyone I like as my plus-one,” Alec says, keeping his voice even. “Do you have a problem with warlocks?”

“Excuse us,” Robert says hastily, getting his son by the elbow and tugging him aside. “Alec, what are you  _ doing _ ?”

Alec speaks loudly enough for the people nearby to overhear. “I’m getting back at you and Mom for cutting me off because I’m gay. I thought that was obvious.”

There are several more gasps, and some titters from the crowd.

“Oh, and I’m not really a lawyer,” Alec says. “I’m a bartender at an underworld club. It pays the bills, you know, from the huge loans I had to take out in order to finish college. After you and Mom cut me off, because I’m gay.” He smiles as Maryse rushes over, clearly intent on shutting him up before he can say anything else. “Magnus really is my boyfriend, though. That part’s not a lie.”

“Alexander Gid – ” Maryse starts.

“I actually  _ would _ have kids with him, you know, if it was an option,” Alec says, giving Magnus a sideways smile. “Kids with his genes would be amazing, because he’s amazing. Maybe we could use a surrogate. I bet Izzy would do us the favor, actually – ”

“That is enough!” Maryse shouts, and several of the men Valentine has hired as security are coming over, attracted by the attention.

Alec glances at Magnus, who gives a nod to indicate that he had gotten the token into Valentine’s pocket while everyone was distracted. He lifts his hands in surrender as security approaches. “No need to get rough. We’ll leave. I just hadn’t seen my parents in so long, I must have been overcome by emotion. Mom, Dad – ladies, gentlemen, non-binaries – it’s been a pleasure.” He grabs Magnus by the wrist and flees towards the exit.

When they get into the car, Magnus is laughing so hard that he’s nearly crying. “Oh, Alec. That was beautiful.”

“I enjoyed it,” Alec admits. “God, it felt good to get some of that out of my system. Wish Izzy could have seen it.”

“No worries, I recorded the whole thing,” Magnus says, still laughing. “Mostly for my father, because I knew he would find it hilarious. But I can send a copy to your sister as well.”

“Awesome,” Alec says. He grins at Magnus, already thinking about the fantastic sex they’re going to have when they get back to the hotel.

“Out of curiosity, though,” Magnus says, settling down a little, “are you actually interested in having children?”

Alec hesitates. He had brought it up on impulse, but . . . “Maybe, yeah. I think it might be nice. With you. I don’t have much in the way of good role models, but I think you would make a great dad. But, you know, we can talk about it.”

“It might be nice,” Magnus agrees, then laughs. “I’m not sure how I feel about knocking up your sister, though.”

Alec laughs, too, reaching out to grab Magnus’ hand and press a kiss against his knuckles. “Well, if you don’t want to do that, we can adopt. Or something. We’ll figure it out.”

“All right.” Magnus leans over to press a kiss against Alec’s cheek, then his ear, then the side of his neck –

Alec has to pull the car over before he runs off the road. They don’t make it back to the hotel for quite a long time.

~ ~ ~ ~

Asmodeus laughs so hard at the video that it looks like he’s going to sprain something. “Truly beautiful,” he says, wiping tears out of the corner of his eyes. “Their faces, just – ” He goes off into another gale of laughter.

Alec doesn’t ask questions about whether or not the mission was a success, because he knows that it was. The big headline the next day had been about how Valentine Morgenstern had decided to withdraw his bill that would impose harsh penalties on warlocks involved in various crimes. He had issued a statement saying that upon further reflection, the bill would be vulnerable to constitutional challenges, and he was revising it. Alec can see that a mile away as the ‘cover your ass’ move that it was. He had no doubt that a revised version won’t be appearing any time soon.

“Ah, we should celebrate,” Asmodeus says. “Dinner tomorrow at the house. Six o’clock sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Alec says, and Asmodeus waves as he leaves the bar.

Magnus leans over to give Alec a kiss. “I’ll see you tonight after work?”

“I have an errand or two to run,” Alec says, which is code for the fact that he has to go back to his own apartment long enough to write up a report and deliver it to Raj. “Text me when you’re up for the day tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Alec watches Magnus leave the bar – it’s always such a nice view – and then gets back to work. It’s Friday, and the club is fairly full. He’s kept busy making drinks, and although he overhears a snippet of conversation here and there, it’s nothing particularly noteworthy.

Just after midnight, a group of men in suits come in and settle in one of the private rooms. Alec heads in to get their drink order. They ask for the most expensive bottle of whiskey and four glasses, so that’s easy enough. That’s somewhat unfortunate, because he’d love to have to make them expensive drinks or pour their wine and hear what they’re talking about. But he gets the bottle and the glasses and then heads back in.

The twenty seconds of conversation he hears is not reassuring. “ – ready for distribution in about a week. It’s gonna be a huge hit. High volume sales.”

“You’re sure it’s tasteless?” the other man asks, as Alec sets down the last glass.

“For the last time, yes,” the first man says, at which point Alec has to leave. He’s frowning as he does so. Most people don’t care if their drugs are tasteless. If that’s a concern, then it’s something designed to be given to people who don’t know it’s there. It could be a poison, but that wouldn’t be a high volume seller, which means it’s something similar to rohypnol or GHB. Detection for those was getting better and better, there are cups and straws and even nail polish in development.

Despite his better judgment, he lingers for a moment, stopping to pretend to tie his shoe. He can just barely hear the words, “won’t show up on bloodwork”, and that cements his opinion. A date-rape potion that’s tasteless and can’t be detected by science, making it even more difficult for a victim to prove that he or she wasn’t capable of giving consent.

He heads back behind the bar and goes back to making drinks. He sees the men leave about an hour later. He’s not the one who collects their tab, but it’s easy enough to glance through the receipts and find the one that matches the expensive bottle of whiskey they had consumed. He jots down the name on a napkin and shoves it into his pocket.

It seems like their product is pretty much ready to go, so he texts Raj to let him know that he has something important to report. Raj texts him back to say he’ll meet him at the coffee shop by Alec’s apartment at seven the next morning. Alec writes up what he’s learned, stressing the fact that the drug is about to be put into production, and hands his report to Raj while he waits for his latte. Then he heads over to Magnus’ apartment, letting himself in and undressing before he crawls into bed next to Magnus.

“Mm, now this is how I like to be woken,” Magnus murmurs, as Alec starts pressing kisses into his throat and shoulders.

They make love and have breakfast and Alec sits out on the balcony, watching Magnus and wondering how he had gotten so lucky. “Do you have anything to do before this evening?”

“Loads, actually,” Magnus says. “There’s a fundraising gala tonight and at least three of my clients want to go shopping ahead of time. I’m actually glad you woke me so early.”

“So you’ll be gone all day?” Alec pouts, and Magnus laughs. “Okay. I’ll soldier on without you somehow.”

He works out and reorganizes his notes, trying to fit the new drug distributors into the larger picture. He has surprising difficulty with it. The man who had paid for the drinks isn’t on Asmodeus’ payroll, as far as he can tell. He makes a few notes about it, chats with Izzy, and does some grocery shopping. He’s not much of a cook, particularly in comparison to Magnus, but he likes to make him breakfast when he can, since he’s almost always up first. Magnus gets back at quarter to six, and they head over to Asmodeus’ for dinner.

He doesn’t think much more about the men and their drug. His superiors will have more than enough resources to track down the men and their associates, and put a halt to the distribution before it can get on the market. So he’s a little startled the following Friday night to see the group of men come in again. This time they do want complicated drinks, and they proceed to get completely sloshed.

“We’re celebratin’,” one of them tells Alec, when he brings them a new round of martinis.

Alec doesn’t want to look curious, and he has a sinking feeling that he knows exactly what they’re celebrating, so he didn’t ask questions. Instead, he gives them the polite equivalent of ‘that’s nice’ and heads back to the bar.

Some time later that night, when they’re leaving, the man staggers up to the bar to pay his tab. “Here’s a tip for ya,” he says, pulling a little vial out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket and tucking it into the pocket of Alec’s vest. “For when you need a girl.”

“Thanks,” Alec says, not commenting on the propriety of tipping one’s bartender with illegal drugs. He has bigger fish to fry. He glances down at the name on the receipt. It’s familiar to him, and he has a sinking sensation that he knows why his superiors didn’t get involved.

Magnus is still up when he gets back to the loft, although he’s reading in bed, completely naked. For once, Alec isn’t consumed with lust the moment he sees him. Magnus seems to sense his mood, saying, “What’s wrong?” as Alec sits down to untie his shoes.

Alec pulls out the vial and says, “Can you tell me if this drug is magical or chemical?”

“Certainly.” Magnus gives a little gesture, sending a tendril of magic to pluck the vial out of Alec’s hand and carry it back to himself. He takes the lid off and holds his hand over it, eyes closing for several moments. “Magical, definitely. Why?”

“That’s what I thought.” Alec broods over this as Magnus puts the lid back on the vial and sets it on the table. “I don’t know exactly what it does, and I’m not testing it on either of us. What I do know is that it’s tasteless, can’t be detected on blood work, and is being marketed for a large audience.”

Magnus catches on immediately. “A date rape drug?”

“Yeah. And I – ” Alec’s voice clogs with frustration. “I found out about it last week. I gave all that information to my superiors. I figured they would stop them before it was ready for distribution. But they didn’t.”

“Any idea why not?” Magnus asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“Because one of the guys involved is a CI,” Alec says, and Magnus looks at him questioningly. “Confidential informant. Criminals who pass information along to the FBI or the police. A lot of the time, the bureau will look the other way when those informants break the law, because it keeps them in a position to continue spying on other criminals.”

Magnus frowns. “Look, I can understand why you would overlook someone knocking over a bodega because they can get you information on an arsonist, or whatever, but mass production of a date-rape drug? They’re just going to overlook that?”

“I heard a story once about them overlooking an arms smuggler because his partner was a CI who helped them with something.” Alec shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s just an educated guess. Maybe they just thought it was too small-time to bother with. Or maybe since it’s not tied directly back to your father, they figured it wasn’t their problem and gave it to the NYPD. All I know is that these guys made enough date-rape drug that they were getting smashed at Edom tonight and tipped me with a vial of it.”

“Hm,” Magnus says, picking up the vial and folding his hand around it for a few moments. “I guess we’ll just have to take care of it ourselves.”

“That’s . . .” Alec can’t help but give him the side-eye. “Ambitious.”

Magnus snorts a little. “Admittedly, it is that. But I think it’s doable. Because they gave you this.” He holds up the vial. “I can use this to find their stash, or stashes, as it might be. They might have distributed to dealers, but it won’t be widespread yet, not if they just started. Which means that if we can get to it, we can destroy it.”

“But then they’ll be looking for whoever destroyed it.” Alec considers for a minute. “Can you de-magic it? If that makes sense?”

“It does, and yes, I could. Although it would take some time, depending on the size of the batch. That’s actually quite clever. It wouldn’t look any different, but it wouldn’t do anything. It would just look like it didn’t work as advertised. Nobody would want to buy anything else from them, even if they swore up and down that someone must have tampered with it.”

“Do you think they’d know what we did, though?” Alec asks.

Magnus gives a slight shrug. “Sure, they’d know a warlock had messed with it. But they certainly wouldn’t suspect me. I’m not involved in the business, remember?”

“What about your father?”

“What about him?”

“I don’t know. He might figure it out, he might be pissed off.”

“That won’t happen for a number of reasons,” Magnus says. “For starters, he doesn’t know that I’d be involved any more than anyone else. Half the people in the bar probably figured out what those guys were up to if they went there to celebrate by getting hammered. Secondly, my father probably isn’t even directly involved. He’s not a micromanager. The day-to-day of the drug trade is more Eben’s territory than anyone else’s. He might or might not have even told my father about this new product. So I wouldn’t worry too much about his involvement.”

Alec nods. “Okay,” he says. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.”

~ ~ ~ ~

It’s easier than Alec had anticipated. Magnus uses his magic to track down the stash and hide them from the man guarding the warehouse. It takes him about half an hour of standing in the center with magic swirling around him. He coaxes it out of the little vials, condensing it in a crystal that he’s holding in both hands. Whereas Magnus’ magic is usually blue and sometimes red, this magic is a sickly yellow green. The crystal gradually gets brighter until Alec has to shield his eyes.

When he’s done, Magnus is exhausted. He can’t make a portal, and he barely has enough energy left to get them back out of the warehouse without being seen. They need to get rid of the crystal, he says, since it could be used to track them down, so they walk a few blocks and then Alec throws it into the Hudson. Then they find a nearby dive bar that’s still open, and Alec calls them an Uber.

“It’s too bad you’re so tired,” he says, while they’re waiting for their ride.

“Mm?” Magnus asks, trying to keep his eyes open.

“Just thinking about how incredibly sexy you are.”

“Ah.” Magnus laughs quietly. “Raincheck, darling. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Alec presses a kiss into his temple. The car arrives a few minutes later, and by the time they get home, Magnus is mostly asleep. Alec has to half-carry him up to the loft and pull his shoes off before crawling into bed next to him.

He wakes up first the next morning and decides to bring Magnus breakfast in bed. He runs out to buy some pastries and then makes them each an omelet before heading into the bedroom. He sits down on the edge of the bed and kisses Magnus on his forehead, on his closed eyes, on his cheeks, until he stirs. “Morning,” he murmurs.

“Hey,” Alec says, going in for a brief kiss on the mouth. “Are you hungry? I brought breakfast.”

“Starving,” Magnus says, half-sitting up. The next thing he tries to say is lost in an enormous yawn. “Smells delicious.”

“It’s nothing really special,” Alec says, as Magnus takes the mug of coffee off the tray. Magnus arches an eyebrow at him, and he flushes pink. “It’s just, you know, breakfast.”

“You’re adorable.” Magnus yawns again and then sets to his meal with a will. Alec cuts into his omelet with his fork, but mostly just watches him. Magnus becomes aware of his gaze a few minutes later, and ducks his head, almost shy. “What?”

“Nothing,” Alec says, smiling. “Or, well, everything. I was just thinking about what a good heart you have.”

Magnus flushes a little. “Don’t be silly.”

“Magnus, you’re  _ amazing _ ,” Alec says. “What you did last night – do you think just anyone could have done that? Plus what you’re helping me do, bind your father from continuing to cause harm – you said yourself that you might be the only person in the world who could do that.”

“Yes, I’m a powerful warlock,” Magnus says, then points out, “but that’s not what you said.”

“You could rule the world,” Alec says. “You’re incredibly strong and your father adores you. You could literally run this entire city. But instead you help people. Sometimes it’s little things like helping someone find the perfect shoes so she can dance all night without getting sore feet. And sometimes it’s big things like saving hundreds of people from getting assaulted. You could have been somebody else so easily, but you  _ chose _ to be this person. Like you said, all of you and your siblings made your own choices. This is who you chose to be, and, and I think that’s really amazing.”

Now Magnus is definitely blushing. “It isn’t like I sat down one day and decided to be who I am.”

“Didn’t you, though?” Alec asks. “Tell me there wasn’t ever a moment. A moment where you thought about all the things you could have or be, so easily, if you joined your father’s organization. If you just took advantage of other people. You must have had a moment like that.”

Magnus is quiet, then says, “A lot of them, really.”

“But you never did. It would have been so easy for you, but you didn’t. You  _ did _ choose to be who you are. All of us do. It’s just not one choice. It’s a hundred, a thousand, little choices that we make every day. You could have had the world, but instead you chose to be kind.”

“I do have the world,” Magnus says, leaning in to press his mouth against Alec’s. “I have you.”

Now it’s Alec who blushes. “If I argue with that, you’ll shut me down, huh?”

“In a heartbeat.” Magnus kisses him again. “Now, you were saying something last night about ravishing me?”

“I was saying something about you ravishing  _ me _ ,” Alec says with a smirk.

“Excellent idea.” Magnus pushes the tray of food away. “I’ll get right on that.”

~ ~ ~ ~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... this chapter has some torture in it, like literal torture, because I am a bad person who enjoys being mean to Alec. It's not graphically described but the scene does get pretty intense.

 

“See you tomorrow,” Alec calls out to the other bartender as he heads out Edom’s back door. It’s only a short walk back to his own apartment, so he normally makes his own way back. When he’s going to Magnus’ for the night, he texts Magnus to have him open a portal. But he’s still staying at his own apartment a few nights a week, so he can give his reports to Raj.

He’s only barely taken a step out of the alley and onto the street and someone grabs him from behind. A hand is clenched over his mouth and then he feels something hard jammed into his side. There’s a sharp buzz and his body convulses and he blacks out.

Consciousness returns slowly. He doesn’t think he’s been out long, although given the abilities of warlocks, he could have been moved to anywhere in the world. But he isn’t hungry, doesn’t need to use the bathroom. He can’t have been unconscious for very long. He shakes himself a little, trying to wake himself more fully, and then someone throws cold water in his face.

He sputters and opens his eyes, looking around. What he sees doesn’t shed a lot of light on the situation. It looks like he’s in a garage of some kind. There’s some equipment lying around, but on the whole the place is empty. There are some small windows on the side of the building, which are clouded over but filtering in some orange street light.

He’s handcuffed to a chair, with a separate set of cuffs for each limb. He rattles them a little, just on general principle, but they’re solid. This draws the attention of the men in the room. There are three of them, all dressed in identical plain suits, obviously hired muscle. Anyone on the planet could have hired him. However, one of them picks up his phone and says, “He’s awake.”

A few minutes later, the door open and Valentine Morgenstern walks in. “Oh, you,” Alec mutters. He has to admit that it’s somewhat of a relief. Valentine is dangerous to be sure, but Alec would far rather be in his captivity than have had his cover blown with Asmodeus.

“Mr. Lightwood,” Valentine says, in a voice that’s almost cheerful. “It’s nice to meet you again.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Alec replies. “What am I doing here?”

“Well, I had a question.”

“Which is?”

“Oh, it’s not for you.” Valentine reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. Alec quickly sees that it’s his own. “Looks like we’re going to need a password.”

“So you can call Asmodeus and ask him what, exactly?” Alec asks. “How much he’s willing to pay for me?”

Valentine chuckles as if Alec has told a particularly funny joke. “This is about so much more than money, Mr. Lightwood. Now, would you like the torture to start now, or would you at least like to let your father-in-law know where he can pick up your body?”

Alec stares him down, but he knows he won’t get anywhere by stonewalling on this particular point. If he gives Valentine the password, Valentine will call Asmodeus, and then he can at least find out what Valentine wants. As a bonus, then Asmodeus will know he’s in trouble, even if he won’t know where Alec is. “It’s five-eight-one-three.”

Valentine taps the screen a few more times. He puts it on speaker, and Alec hears it ring twice before Asmodeus’ voice comes on the line. He sounds a little brisk, if not unfriendly. “This isn’t really a good time, Alec. Can this wait?”

“Asmodeus,” Valentine says, still with that note of cheer in his voice. “What are you so busy with? I’m curious.”

There’s a moment of silence. A little more distantly, Alec hears Asmodeus saying to whoever he’s with, “Excuse me, gentlemen.” A bit of shuffling, and then Asmodeus speaks directly into the phone again. “Mr. Morgenstern, I take it you weren’t pleased with the results of our last meeting. What makes you think that this one is going to end any better?”

“You know that it’s not just Mr. Lightwood’s phone that I have here, correct?”

Asmodeus’ voice goes somewhat cold. “Proof of life. Now.”

“Certainly.” Valentine gestures to one of his men, who kicks Alec hard in the knee.

Alec grits his teeth and manages to hold back the almost-automatic cry of pain. He takes a deep breath and says in an even voice, “I’m here, Asmodeus.”

“Hold tight, Alec. You have nothing to worry about.” Asmodeus is still calm, but from the note of anger in his voice, Alec is suddenly more terrified than ever of what will ever happen if Asmodeus figures out his true identity. “What is it that you want, Mr. Morgenstern?”

“Well, for starters, I’m reintroducing my bill in the house tomorrow,” Valentine says. “I’ve made a few tweaks to it, to make it look like I withdrew it to shore up its weaknesses. I would appreciate it if you would let it pass through the house without further interference.”

“Very well,” Asmodeus says. “I won’t even call my local representative. What else?”

“Oh, I’m sure there are other ways you can help me. But there’s so much about your business that I don’t know. Who could I possibly ask for more details?” Valentine looks at Alec and smirks. “Your new son-in-law must know quite a bit about it. Working at your club, helping you out with side jobs to further your political interests. Maybe I’ll ask him some questions, then give you a call to let you know what else I want.”

“You can do that if you’d like.” Asmodeus is still calm. “Alec, I want you to – ”

Valentine taps the screen, and Asmodeus’ voice cuts off before he can finish telling Alec what he wants him to do. Alec hopes that Asmodeus was telling him to just answer Valentine’s questions rather than be tortured, but he doesn’t know for sure. He’s still debating what to do when Valentine pulls a vial out of an inner suit pocket. “Hold him.”

Alec swears and struggles against the cuffs, but there’s nothing he can do as one of them men tilts his head back and squeezes his face so his mouth opens. The potion is tangy, and he tries to spit it out but at least half of it goes down. The only thing it could be is a truth potion, and now he’s in trouble. If Valentine asks just the wrong question, he’s going to end up telling him all about his undercover work.

There’s only one way to deal with a truth potion, and that’s to tell the truth. All of it. So before Valentine can ask a single question, Alec opens his mouth and says, “I figured out I was gay when I was thirteen. There was this guy I used to love watching play basketball. Blonde, cute, such a nice ass. I couldn’t say anything, though. I’d been listening to my mom talk about how disgusting gays were for the last year.”

Valentine folds his arms over his chest, giving Alec a look. “Clever,” he says. “You know the business, it seems.”

“I actually tried out for the basketball team just so I could spend more time near him,” Alec continues. “Which I turned out to be great at, mostly because I was taller than a lot of the other kids. I hated basketball. Just running back and forth on the damned court for hours. But my parents liked that I was in sports. I ended up playing basketball for five stupid years just because of a crush I had in eighth grade.”

“Guess we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way,” Valentine says.

Alec hopes that the old-fashioned way involves him being punched in the face. He doesn’t know exactly how Valentine is shielding them, but he’s guessing that a simple locator or tracking spell won’t work. But if he can get some blood onto the ring that Asmodeus gave him, that sends a distress signal, he’s betting that will. Even if they don’t uncuff him, if they hit him in the face enough times he’ll probably be able to spit some blood down onto his hand. It will be gross, but effective.

Unfortunately, that’s not what they have in mind. Instead, they turn the chair so he’s lying on his back on the floor, then shove some wooden blocks underneath the chair’s legs so he’s at a slight angle. A cloth is tossed over his face. He talks the entire time they’re doing this, detailing the process of coming out to his parents. He keeps talking until the water starts.

He had learned some about different torture techniques during his time with the FBI, and he remembers thinking that waterboarding sounded terrifying. It’s impossible to stop the water from going down his nose and into his throat. He gags, coughs, and sputters. Fewer than ten seconds have gone by before he’s thrashing in an attempt to get free.

After what seems like a small eternity, they pull him upright. He half-spits, half-vomits water all over the floor. “Now, Mr. Lightwood – ” Valentine starts.

“Until I was ten, I slept with a stuffed bear named Mr. Pumpkin,” Alec says hoarsely. “Then my mother took him away from me. She said I was too big to be sleeping with stuffed animals anymore. I couldn’t sleep well for weeks afterwards. I kept going into their room and stealing him back, so my mother finally threw him out. I – ”

He’s tilted backwards again. “This is going to take some time, I see,” Valentine says.

Alec tries to think, which is growing increasingly difficult. He’s practical enough to know that he won’t last very long. He needs to find a way to call Asmodeus. He needs to get out of here. He needs –

He realizes that he’s starting to give in to panic, and does his best to squelch it. He can bite through his lip to get the blood he needs, but he won’t be able to get to the ring while he’s tilted backwards. He wonders how much blood the ring requires to work, and hopes that it isn’t much. He needs to get them to uncuff him.

The best way to do that is to make them think he’s going to cooperate, which is going to be difficult when he can’t lie. Every time Valentine starts to ask a question, he starts talking about something else before he can finish. But it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. He slips up at least once, talking about something that had happened when he was young that had led him to want to be a cop. Valentine doesn’t realize the implications, fortunately, but Alec knows he’s starting to have trouble focusing.

“This can end at any time,” Valentine reminds him. “All you have to do is let me finish a question and then give me the answer.”

Alec’s throat burns and his chest aches, and he rasps out, “For two years, I pretended to have a girlfriend named Jessica. I made up stories about her to tell my parents and my younger sister. She – ”

The water starts again. He inhales, chokes, and blacks out.

He comes to abruptly with someone pounding on his chest, and realizes he’s been uncuffed and laid flat on the floor. That seems important, but for a minute he can’t remember why. He rolls onto his side, coughing so hard that his entire body shudders.

“That was close, you stubborn son of a bitch,” Valentine says, his voice almost jovial. Alec coughs water onto his feet. “Are you really going to let yourself die to protect – ”

“Magnus,” Alec interrupts. “I’d die for Magnus.” He bites down hard on his lower lip, and tastes blood. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says, and brings his hand up to his mouth, smearing the blood on the ring. “I love him so much.”

“That’s sweet,” Valentine says. “How about you – ”

An arc of red light flashes through the air. Valentine stops talking. Stops moving. The three thugs are likewise still. Alec finds that he can’t move either. He sees Asmodeus step into the room through his peripheral vision. The warlock flicks a finger at him and he can move again. He coughs hard and says hoarsely, “Hey.”

“Don’t try to move,” Asmodeus says to him. He glances around the room, takes in the three thugs and Valentine and their equipment. A dark look passes over his face. He holds his hand out, the same two-fingered gesture that Alec has seen Magnus use to do magic all the time. Three sharp gestures, and the three thugs collapse to the floor like marionettes whose strings have been cut. Then Asmodeus steps over to Valentine, who’s clearly struggling against the spell that Asmodeus has used to immobilize him. “I don’t think a quick death is in the cards for you,” Asmodeus says. He twirls his fingers idly in the air, and white-hot vines of magic twist around Valentine. He makes a strangled noise as the magic touches him. “I’ll come back for you later. Don’t go anywhere.”

With that, he walks over to Alec, takes a look at him, and frowns. “Up you get,” he says, getting an arm underneath Alec’s shoulders and hauling him to his feet. They step through a portal and into Magnus’ apartment.

“Thank God,” Magnus says, so he’s clearly been brought up to date on the situation. He gets on Alec’s other side and helps lower him to the ground. He smoothes down Alec’s damp hair and frowns. “Alec, tell me what hurts.”

“Throat,” Alec rasps. “Head. Chest.”

A blue glow is already surrounding Magnus’ hands as Alec speaks. “There’s still a lot of water in your lungs. Father, if you could – the cabinet next to the sink, there are some large bowls – ” He rolls Alec onto his side and then half-lifts him. “This is going to feel a little odd, but just try to relax. You’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Alec nods a little as Asmodeus places the bowl on the floor. Magnus’ magic goes into his mouth and down into his chest, and he can’t move for a minute as it slowly draws the water out. It does feel weird, a little like throwing up but much less violent. A few moments later, and Magnus lies him down again. His chest still hurts, but he feels like he can breathe again.

“You’re so beautiful,” Alec mumbles, as Magnus runs his fingers through Alec’s hair. “I love looking at you. Especially first thing in the morning, when you’re not wearing makeup and your hair is all messed up. I love seeing you like that because nobody else gets to.”

Magnus’ fingers gently trace over Alec’s lips. He looks up at Asmodeus and says, “Truth potion?”

“It would seem so.” Asmodeus kneels down next to Alec. “If this ever happens again, just tell them whatever they want to know. I tried to tell you that, but Valentine cut off the call, I gather. Nobody who ever touches you will survive it, so there’s no reason to try to lie or withhold information.”

Alec nods and closes his eyes. He’s so exhausted that he can’t even move. He thinks he might pass out for a minute, because when Asmodeus speaks again, he feels like he’s missed part of a conversation. “You’re angry with me,” the warlock is saying.

“Yes,” Magnus says, without tone or inflection.

“I never intended for him to be hurt.”

“You knew what Valentine Morgenstern was like, far better than either of us did. But you still sent us to that party, knowing that he might make the connection between us and you. You put Alec in danger. This happened because of you, regardless of your _intentions_.”

“Fair enough,” Asmodeus replies. His voice is quiet. “Any of my children can be targeted to get to me at any time. It’s not an easy fact to live with. For any of us.”

“Just . . .” Magnus sounds as exhausted as Alec feels. “Just go away. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“All right. I have some things to take care of, in any case. Please tell Alec that I’m sorry I couldn’t get to him sooner.”

There are footsteps, and then the closing of a door. Magnus strokes Alec’s hair and says, “Are you awake, darling?”

“A li’l,” Alec murmurs. “Time ‘sit?”

“Nearly dawn. Come on. Let’s get you into bed.”

Alec nods. He lets Magnus help him to his feet, supporting most of his weight, using magic to hold him up while Magnus carefully peels him out of his wet clothes. He runs his hands through Alec’s hair, drying it with his magic. “That’s better, mm?” he says, and helps Alec lie down. He’s asleep a few seconds later.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec wakes up slowly, to an enormous ache in his chest and throbbing in his temples. He rolls over, burrowing underneath the blankets in an attempt to escape, and groans quietly. A moment later, he feels Magnus’ hand rub down his spine. “Hey,” Magnus says quietly. Warmth spreads out from his hands, and the pain eases. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Alec mumbles. His voice comes out hoarse, barely audible.

“Hold on.” The bed shifts as Magnus gets up, and Alec tries to relax. Magnus comes back a minute later, holding a mug which has wafts of steam coming off of it. He sets it down, then helps Alec sit up, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of his face. “Here, drink this. Nice and slow.”

Alec nods and swallows. The drink is warm, and tastes a little bit like cinnamon. It burns on the first sip, but then his throat goes numb.

“Better?” Magnus asks.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Alec can barely raise his voice above a whisper.

“No need to thank me.” Magnus presses a kiss against his temple. “What on earth happened last night? It’s not my place to tell you how to handle things, but you could have just told them the truth.”

“I was afraid of how _much_ truth I would tell them,” Alec whispers. “Because of the potion. If I had told him about my real job, it just would have made things worse.”

“I guess that’s true,” Magnus says. He sits down on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hand over Alec’s hair and over the back of his neck. “Even so. I just . . . I don’t know. I feel like there’s something I should say, but there’s really nothing that would help.”

“Yeah.” Alec shrugs. His voice is starting to return to normal as he drinks the potion. “I heard what you said to your father last night. But it really wasn’t his fault.”

“My father is not responsible for Valentine’s actions. But he put you in a vulnerable position. Valentine obviously has extensive ties to the criminal underworld. We thought he was just a run-of-the-mill politician, but my father knew better. He just didn’t tell us that, because he knew that if he did, we wouldn’t agree to go.”

“But I still would have,” Alec says. “I mean, your father has done a lot of bad things, but Valentine’s bill was pretty awful.”

“Even so, it was his responsibility to protect you after putting you in that situation,” Magnus says, his voice tight and angry.

Alec reaches up and caresses Magnus’ face with one hand. “He can’t keep me in a bubble, Magnus.”

“I suppose not.” Magnus sighs. “Even so, if we had known about the danger, I would have opened you a portal every night. You wouldn’t have had to walk home.”

“To be fair, your father probably just assumed that we were already doing that,” Alec says. “Warlocks portal everywhere. It’s second nature to you guys. The only reason you _weren’t_ already doing that is because I was giving my reports to Raj on the way home a lot of the time. So he probably had no idea I was walking the streets of Brooklyn at two AM.”

Magnus pokes Alec in the ribs. “You and your logic and your facts.”

Alec smiles despite himself. “I stick to what I’m good at.”

“Speaking of Raj, are you going to report this back to your superiors?”

Alec grimaces. “I should, but . . . if they know that your father is responsible for killing an actual Congressman, that would make them very unreceptive to our argument about not assassinating him. They’d probably insist we move on him right away, and . . . out of all the things your father has done, I really don’t want him to get nailed for killing Valentine Morgenstern. Especially since he was saving my life when he did it.”

Magnus nods a little. “That’s sort of what I was thinking, too.” He leans over and gives Alec a brief kiss. “Come on. We both need a change of scenery. Should we have lunch in Paris or Rome?”

“I defer to your superior judgment.”

“If you’re feeling up to it, of course.”

“Yeah, I’m still a little sore but honestly, I feel okay. Let me just shower and get dressed.”

“All right. Oh, by the way, my father texted and said to tell you not to worry about work until Friday. He’s told Isaak that you won’t be in.”

“Okay. And you can portal me home from now on.” Alec gives him a quick kiss and then heads into the bathroom. He studies himself in the mirror, surprised by how normal he looks. The only sign of the previous night’s misadventures is the small cut on his lip and the bruises on his wrists and ankles. He shakes his head a little, rubbing his hand over his chin, feeling the stubble there. He turns on the water in the shower and runs a comb through his hair while he waits for it to warm up.

As soon as he ducks into the running water, panic wells up into his throat. He’s suddenly upside down again with the cloth over his face. He can’t breathe. He stumbles backwards, out of the stream, and leans against the back wall of the shower, panting. It takes him a moment to regain control, and he chides himself for being ridiculous. But as soon as he takes a step forward, his heart thuds quickly in his chest and his throat starts to close over. He’s out of the shower and on the other side of the bathroom before he can even think. He doesn’t even turn it off, but flees the bathroom and sags onto the bed, trying to catch his breath.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Magnus asks, poking his head back into the bedroom.

Alec looks up at him and tries to answer his question in a reasonable voice. What comes out is a reedy whisper. “I can’t shower. The water hit my face and I – ” His voice chokes and he closes his eyes, feeling nauseous.

Magnus kneels in front of him, smoothing down his hair with both hands. He presses a kiss against Alec’s forehead, then says, “I’ll draw you a bath.”

“Thanks,” Alec manages. He doesn’t move, staying on the bed with his head cradled in his hands, as the noise from the bathroom changes from the shower to the faucet. A few minutes later, it turns off. His legs feel shaky, but they support him as he gets up and heads back into the bathroom.

“I kept it shallow,” Magnus says, glancing up as Alec comes in.

Alec nods. “Yeah, good – good thinking.” He steps over the edge of the tub and manages to sit down in the three inches of water Magnus has drawn.

Magnus picks up a washcloth. “Shall I wash your back?” he adds, his tone gently teasing, giving Alec an excuse to have Magnus stay in the bathroom without admitting he doesn’t want to be alone.

“Who could say no to that offer?” Alec asks, and manages a real smile in response.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

It takes several days before Alec can be in a room by himself without flinching out of his skin every time there’s a noise. Magnus is endlessly patiently with him during this, always staying close to him and getting him anything he needs. He tries to keep Alec’s mind off things by taking him sight-seeing all over the world. Alec has to admit that he’s happier when he’s not in New York, even though he knows that he’s safe there. Valentine is gone, and won’t be coming back.

His first night back on the job is blessedly quiet. He catches several people giving him sideways glances, and they’re almost disturbingly polite to him. He gathers quickly that word of what happened is spreading. Nobody wants to mess with him.

It’s just after midnight when Asmodeus comes in. He walks up to the bar with a smile. “Alec, how about a shot of bourbon?”

“Sure,” Alec says, getting the bottle. Asmodeus had texted a few times over the last week to check on him, but this is the first time he’s seen him since the rescue.

“How are you feeling?” Asmodeus asks, as Alec sets down the shot.

“Fine. Good as new,” Alec says.

“Glad to hear it.” Asmodeus sips his bourbon. “Thank you for what you said to Magnus.”

Alec blinks at him. “I . . . say a lot of things to Magnus.”

Asmodeus smiles a little. “He called me to have a drink this evening. To apologize for being angry at me. Told me that you had reminded him that I’m not solely responsible for your safety. Regardless, I do feel awful about what happened. How can I make it up to you?”

“You don’t need to make it up to me,” Alec says. “I mean, you saved my ass. But to be honest, I could have made it easy on myself. I knew you had probably been telling me to just answer his questions, but I was so pissed at him that I tried to fight back anyway. I think my sense of pride got me into as much trouble as you did.”

“Well, you’re a man after my own heart in that regard,” Asmodeus says, laughing. “Even so. I know you never asked for any of this.”

“That’s true, but at the same time . . . once I’m in something, I’m _in_ it, you know? No, I don’t really want to become a junior crime boss, but I’m still part of the family.” He clears his throat. “Dare I, uh, dare I ask what happened to Valentine?”

“Oh, he went back to Washington and attended meetings the next day,” Asmodeus says. “Not really him, of course, but it bought a little time. Nobody will find the body, so you don’t have anything to worry about.” He finishes his bourbon and says, “On that note, I have business to attend to. I hope I’ll see you soon, Alec.”

“See you soon,” Alec says, waving as Asmodeus heads out and then getting back to work. Several hours later, he texts Magnus to let him know he’s ready to go, and Magnus opens a portal into the break room. “I’m going to have to figure out how to pass messages back to Raj, given the new landscape.”

“Well, just because you’ve been meeting him at the bodega and the coffee shop near your apartment doesn’t mean you have to do it in the middle of the night,” Magnus says. “Just text him from here and then meet him in the morning. I don’t think anyone’s going to kidnap you in broad daylight. Especially since Valentine’s been taken care of.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Alec leans in and presses a kiss against the side of Magnus’ neck. “As long as you don’t mind portalling me over. Doesn’t that get tiring?”

“After a while. But as long as I’m conservative using my magic for other things – and let’s be honest, Alec, I don’t _really_ need to use it to get the remote control or make my coffee – then I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll text him, then. I need to let them know I’m back at work. Plus I picked up a few things at the bar tonight that I want to pass along.”

“Although, if he wants to meet at seven AM again, I might have to sleepwalk,” Magnus says, and Alec laughs.

Raj’s meeting time is a more sensible eight thirty, although that’s still quite early for Magnus – and for Alec, now that he’s working nights. But they manage to get out of bed and make it back to Alec’s apartment. Magnus stays there while Alec runs down to the coffee shop on the corner to exchange messages with Raj. He’s surprised to find that Raj has a message for him, rather than the usual one-sided passing of intelligence.

“Is that bad?” Magnus asks once Alec gets back to the apartment, seeing the way he’s playing with the envelope and not opening it.

“It’s just a little nerve-wracking. It’s out of the ordinary.” Alec opens the envelope and sees the message inside is what he had half-expected. He reads it out loud. “Submit all information gathered on the disappearance of Valentine Morgenstern.”

Magnus winces. “How would they even know that my father was involved? He made sure that Morgenstern was seen back in DC for at least a couple days before he quote-unquote disappeared.”

“I’m not the only person who passes information back to the bureau,” Alec says. “I noticed at work last night that the rumors about what had happened were spreading. They picked up on it somehow. It doesn’t really matter how.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, trying to decide what to do. “I have to say I don’t know anything.”

“Will they buy that?”

“I don’t know, but if I say I _do_ know something, they’ll want to know why I didn’t say anything sooner.” Alec sits down abruptly. “Shit. This is the sort of thing they warn about, isn’t it. About getting in too deep, sympathizing with the people you’re supposed to be working against.”

“Maybe your superiors wouldn’t have such a problem if they weren’t the worst,” Magnus says, with spirit.

Alec can’t help but laugh. “Maybe. But maybe not. I should have told them what happened. I literally watched Asmodeus murder three people, and I know for a fact that he killed a fourth.”

“He did that to save your life,” Magnus says.

“No, he didn’t,” Alec replies. “He could have easily gotten me out of there without lifting a finger against any of those people. He did it because – because he can’t appear to be soft, because it was a neater long-term solution, because they had threatened his family and his empire. He did it because that’s _who he is_. He has been nothing but kind to me and I genuinely like him, but he’s a killer by nature. I should have told my superiors but I didn’t, because I was hurting and afraid and all I wanted to do was curl up in your lap and feel safe, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do that if I reported what he had done.”

Magnus reaches out and squeezes his hand. They sit in silence for a few moments.

“But if you say you have nothing to report,” Magnus finally says, “that will quite probably cement their opinion that you’ve gotten in too deep.”

“I know. I’m just not sure what to do.”

“Middle ground,” Magnus says. “You tell them yes, Morgenstern abducted you, and yes, my father rescued you. But you were hurt, maybe only partly conscious, and so you didn’t see what happened. You can make assumptions about what my father did, but you can’t testify to specifics.”

Alec lets out a breath, and nods. “That’s a good idea, yeah. Okay. That’ll work.”

“But it won’t be long now, will it,” Magnus says quietly.

“No.” Alec swallows down the tightness in his throat. “We won’t be able to keep this up much longer. We need to start thinking about how we’re going to end this.”

Magnus nods and leans in, resting his head against Alec’s temple. “All right.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a good weekend, everybody!

 

Three days later, Alec hears about a major shipment coming in the next weekend. It will be an ideal place to bust most of Asmodeus’ lieutenants and underlings. Asmodeus himself won’t be there, but Alec doesn’t need him to be. Magnus says he’s finished preparing the spell that will bind his father to do no harm, but casting it won’t be easy.

Dinner is a good idea. A private dinner at Magnus’ place, maybe to ‘make an announcement’. Asmodeus will assume that they’re announcing their engagement. He’s asked about it several times over the last few weeks. They can put something in his drink that will knock him unconscious. He’ll never see it coming, not from them.

“An engagement announcement would be more public,” Magnus says a few days later, when Alec runs the plan by him. “But we could ask him over to talk about planning an engagement party, which he would definitely insist on throwing us.”

“We would have to tell him we’re actually engaged,” Alec says, shifting a little.

Magnus nods. “But we wouldn’t actually have to _be_ engaged, if it’s too soon for you. Since we wouldn’t actually end up planning a party, it wouldn’t matter.”

“Mm,” Alec says, and thinks about that. He thinks about that for an hour or two, thinks of Magnus’ casual nonchalance about their not-at-all-necessary engagement. He has a feeling that it’s mostly feigned.

He knows how he feels about Magnus. He’s still not sure of exactly how meaningful the matching ceremony is, but he knows how he feels. He knows that the thought of losing Magnus makes his stomach drop into his shoes, that even though it’s only been a few months, he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. He wants to wake up next to him every morning as long as they live.

With that in mind, he calls Asmodeus the next day, because he might as well make use of the resource as long as he has it. “Can I, uh, can I ask you a question about Magnus without you freaking out?”

Asmodeus laughs. “Maybe. You won’t know unless you try.”

Alec clears his throat. “Do you know his ring size?”

“Of course!” Asmodeus sounds genuinely happy, which should be completely at odds with the fact that he’s a ruthless criminal, but somehow isn’t. “I take it you want to surprise him?”

“Yeah. I just . . . I know that because of the matching ceremony, it’s not exactly going to be a shock, but I still want to do the proposal right, you know? Which is going to be hard enough since Magnus can open portals and take me on dates to Italy and Japan.”

Asmodeus laughs. “It’s ten and a half. And you don’t have to worry too much, trust me. I’ve proposed seven different times.”

“Seven?” Alec says, blinking. “I thought Lilith was your sixth – oh, wait.” He realizes he put his foot in his mouth. “Never mind.”

“Yes, only six of the seven received positive responses,” Asmodeus says, still amused. “Anyway, my point is just, you don’t have to get fancy. It’s not about the wine or the view. It’s about you, and the man you love. That’s what matters.”

“Okay.” Alec takes a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Even so, he still wants to do it right. He’d like to do it under the cherry trees where they really met for the first time, even though they’re not blooming anymore. After a few phone calls, a text to Asmodeus, and a large donation, he gets permission to be in the gardens after hours. To be fair, the staff can’t really stop Magnus from just portalling in whenever he feels like it, but he’s always respected their rules. Alec sets up a picnic dinner there and has Magnus meet him there at sunset.

“This is gorgeous, Alec,” Magnus says, smiling as he greets Alec with a kiss. “You didn’t have to do all this work for dinner.”

“I wanted to,” Alec says. “Besides, your dad helped me set it up. He knows a guy who knows a guy. Of course. And it’s not just dinner.” He goes to one knee in front of the cherry tree, holding out the ring. “I know you said we don’t have to be engaged, and you’re right. We don’t have to be. But I want to be. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Will you marry me?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” Magnus says. Alec puts the ring on his finger and then gets back to his feet, pulling Magnus into a hug so tight that his feet leave the ground for a moment. They kiss over and over again.

They eat dinner and lie underneath the trees and cuddle for much longer than they really need to, before adjourning back to the loft.

When Alec gets up the next morning, Magnus is sitting on the balcony on his phone. He looks up when Alec walks out and smiles, gesturing to the mug of coffee he’s been keeping warm with his magic. “Do we have any plans for today?”

“I don’t think so,” Alec says.

“All right. I’m having lunch with my father. He wants to see the ring, of course.”

Alec nods. “The shipment is Friday night, late, like eleven. If we invite your father over for dinner, how much time will you need to do the spell?”

“About two or three hours.”

“That should work, then. They can take him in and then nail the rest of them at the shipment.”

Magnus nods, slowly stirring his coffee. “Have you talked to your superiors about it yet?”

“I wanted to make sure we had it nailed down first. I’ll submit the report to Raj today, and should hear back about the approval by tomorrow.” Alec leans over and presses a kiss into Magnus’ temple. “If they don’t agree, your father never needs to know. We can just have a nice dinner and plan our engagement party. Okay?”

“Okay.” Magnus leans over for a kiss, but pulls away after a moment.

A thought occurs to Alec, as he thinks about Magnus’ considerable lack of enthusiasm. “Hey,” he says. “Do you want to wait until after the wedding? I know – having him be there – that would be important to you.”

Magnus shakes his head a little. “I would, but – this is a good opportunity, maybe the best we’re going to get. We should take it.”

“I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“I know.” Magnus manages a smile. “But unfortunately, I’m going to be. There is no way to make this better. Shuffling the timing so my father can be at the wedding ultimately won’t help the fact that I’m betraying him. In fact, I’d only spend the whole wedding thinking about that, instead of about you. I’d rather not. I made my decision to help you, and I don’t regret it, but I’m going to be upset for a while. I’m sorry if that bothers you.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Alec presses a kiss into his knuckles. “He’s your father.”

Magnus nods a little, and they finish their breakfast in silence.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Alec’s report is a masterpiece. He manages to make it sound like his superiors should obviously know about the fact that Magnus is willing to help them, like he had been told to go undercover as Magnus’ boyfriend to convince him of just this thing. The amount he downplays the fact that Magnus has known he was an FBI agent the entire time is impressive. He also somehow ‘forgets’ to include the place where the deal is going down, and writes about how his superiors will be able to pick up Asmodeus and take him in like it was always the plan.

He’s somewhat unsurprised when the reply he gets from Herondale is a terse, ‘Prospect Park. 4 PM. We’ll find you.’

Alec grimaces a little, but does as he’s told. He sits on one of the benches and plays on his phone and waits until Herondale sits down next to him and opens a newspaper, not looking at him. Out of the corner of her mouth, she says, “You seem to have made some assumptions.”

“Such as?” Alec says, swiping on his phone like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“You were not asked to plan how to take Asmodeus in. Nor were you authorized to give Magnus Bane information about your assignment.”

“That’s true. But if you didn’t want Magnus figuring out that I was an FBI agent, you should have worked harder on my cover. You left up all the tagged photos of me in my George Washington gear. He’s not an idiot.” Herondale’s mouth thins irritably, but she says nothing, so Alec continues. “He offered to help me, and it seemed foolish not to take him up on the offer, especially given the alternatives.”

“How do we know his offer to help was genuine?”

“There’s no reason for him to make it, if it wasn’t. He could have killed me in my sleep eighty times over by now, or told his father about me, or at the very least stopped associating with me.” Alec pulls up a game of Angry Birds and keeps his attention focused on the screen. “Magnus knows his father hurts people. He wants to stop him.”

There’s a long moment of quiet. “You’re very attached to him, aren’t you.”

Alec doesn’t look at her. “I’m not compromised, if that’s what you mean.”

“Aren’t you? You seem concerned for Asmodeus’ safety. I can’t imagine why.”

“I’m concerned for the safety of the men sent to apprehend him, or the safety of anyone in the vicinity if you call in a tactical strike. We can deliver Asmodeus magically and physically bound. You won’t risk losing a single man. How is that me being compromised?”

Herondale is silent for a few moments. “Very well, Lightwood. We’ll play it your way. But if it ends in disaster, it’s going to be on your head, not ours.”

“Agreed.” Alec stands up and walks away without another word. He realizes his hands are shaking as he heads back to the loft. Magnus is on the sofa, but he stands up when he sees Alec come in. “How did it go?”

“Okay. They’ve agreed to our terms,” Alec says, and Magnus breathes out a sigh of relief. “But you were right. They never intended to take him alive.”

Magnus grimaces a little. “I’m sorry, Alec. I know you didn’t want to believe it.”

“It’s all right.” Alec shakes his head a little. “I guess sometimes there really are no good guys.”

“We’re the good guys,” Magnus says, leaning in for a kiss.

Alec tries to smile. “Yeah, I guess so.” He returns the kiss, then pulls away and says, “I don’t know what’s going to happen afterwards. If anyone connects what happened with either of us . . .”

“We probably won’t be sticking around here,” Magnus agrees with a nod. “You don’t need to worry, Alec. I’ve made preparations for that.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec says. “You’re giving up your whole life.”

“So are you.” Magnus shrugs. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy. It won’t be easy for either of us. But we won’t have to worry about the mundane things, at least. I’ve laid in more than enough money that neither of us will ever have to work again, if we don’t want to.”

It shouldn’t be a relief, but it is. Alec pulls him into a hug. “We’ll still have each other,” he says. “No matter what, we’ll always have each other.”

Magnus nods and closes his eyes. They hold onto each other for a long time.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

It goes smoothly. So smoothly that Alec almost wishes it hadn’t, like God or fate dropped in a big neon sign telling them not to do this. Asmodeus arrives on time, alone. He congratulates them both on their engagement, even though he’s seen Magnus in the interim. They chat for a few minutes about what’s for dinner, and Alec pours them each a drink. Magnus has made the potion himself, so they don’t have to rely on outside sources. They toast, and drink. Asmodeus has barely set his glass back down before he gives himself a little shake as if dizzy. Then his knees buckle, and Magnus and Alec both grab him and help him to the floor. He’s unconscious before they get him all the way down.

They half-carry, half-drag him into Magnus’ workroom. He’s gotten everything set up that he needs. Alec wants to stay, but Magnus tells him that it isn’t necessary, and honestly might be a distraction. So instead he paces around the apartment while Magnus does whatever magic it is that will keep his father from harming anybody else.

It takes about two hours, and when Magnus finishes, he’s exhausted. They sit in silence for a long minute, Magnus resting his head against Alec’s shoulder. Asmodeus is still unconscious, but they’re taking no chances. Alec walks over and puts him in handcuffs, the kind that have runes inscribed on the insides to prevent a warlock from doing any magic. Then he calls Raj.

Despite his assurances, they still show up with enough tactical teams to blow a hole in the building. Alec is annoyed on principle, but supposes that in the long run he can’t blame them. He’ll go along with them so he can be debriefed. “Do you want to come?” he asks Magnus.

“No, I’m worn out,” Magnus says. “I just want to get some sleep.”

Alec nods. “Okay.” He presses a quick kiss against Magnus’ mouth before following the agents down to the car.

Things at the office are somewhat crazy. Asmodeus is taken to the special holding cells they use for warlocks, yet another layer of precaution to keep him from doing magic. An agent is assigned to stand guard, and Alec gives Herondale all the information on the shipment’s delivery.

“You’ll need to be debriefed,” she says shortly. “Just wait here. It may be a while.”

Alec nods and settles down in the office break room. He knows it’s going to be a long night. He’s going to be giving details and writing out his testimony until dawn. But at least it’s over. Asmodeus is safely in custody. He’ll be tried and sentenced to prison for his crimes. He’s done what he set out to do, and he feels pretty good about it.

He passes the next hour daydreaming about where he and Magnus are going to go. He’d prefer an English-speaking country, although he knows he shouldn’t be picky. Magnus probably knows translation spells. Maybe they should just head somewhere with a beach and not worry about it for a while.

About an hour later, they start bringing people in. The holding cells are going to be crowded, and he has no doubt that a lot of people are going straight to central booking under the jurisdiction of the NYPD. After what seems like a small eternity, someone thinks to come in and tell him that the raid is over, they’ve made over a hundred arrests, and someone will be in to debrief him shortly.

The debriefing takes hours. He has to go over every bit of information he had ever sent Raj, confirm the identities of everyone who had been arrested, validate a thousand pieces of evidence. Nobody mentions his relationship with Magnus. Herondale seems quietly annoyed with him still, but the Assistant Director they send, a man named Aldertree, is full of praise for Alec’s work undercover and how they’ve dealt a huge blow to organized crime in the city. A promotion is a certainty, as soon as they’re sure that Alec’s identity as the mole wasn’t revealed.

It’s after dawn before they let him go. He thinks about calling Magnus to ask if he’ll portal him home, but decides that he doesn’t want to disturb him. He takes a taxi instead, and stops by a bakery to pick up some pastries and coffee. He knows that Magnus will at least want to be woken long enough to get the news about the arrests.

He sets the box down on the kitchen counter and heads into the bedroom, but Magnus isn’t there. The bed has obviously been slept in, but it’s empty. That’s unusual, not just because he had expected Magnus would still be asleep, but because Magnus makes the bed every morning with a flick of his magic. He checks the bathroom, but it’s empty as well.

He’s just about to call him when his phone rings, and he sees Magnus’ number come up. He picks it up, wondering if Magnus decided to go out and get breakfast too, and they just crossed paths. “Hey, where are you?”

“Hello, Alec,” a feminine voice says, and Alec nearly drops the phone. “Do you know who this is?”

“Camille,” Alec chokes out, feeling his stomach twist itself into knots.

“Funny thing about biting the hand that feeds you . . . or imprisoning the crime lord who was protecting you . . . it doesn’t tend to end well, now does it.”

Alec’s free hand clenches into a fist. “Where is Magnus?”

“He’s here with me! Where else would he be?” Camille laughs. “Don’t bother tracing the call. We’ll be gone as soon as I hang up. I have so many plans for my faithless little man here. He’s going to pay for what he did.”

“What do you want?” Alec demands.

“I don’t want anything,” Camille says, and laughs again. “You know, I thought you would be here. I was going to kill you in front of him. Make him watch. I was surprised to find him alone. Poor baby is all worn out from the magic he did, and you left him here by himself for hours. You don’t deserve him. So I didn’t get the chance to kill you, but you know what? I think I actually like it better this way. I’ll still _tell_ Magnus I killed you, of course. He’s got enough pictures of you on his phone that the illusion will be easy. I want you to live a long, healthy life, Alec. I want you to wake up every morning knowing that Magnus is with me, that Magnus believes I killed you because of him. He’ll never dare leave me again, and you, little boy, will _never_ find us.”

“Camille, don’t – ” Alec starts, but she’s already hung up. “Son of a bitch!”

He practically runs back down the stairs, half-hoping the taxi will still be there. It’s not, but he manages to flag down another only a few moments later. He’s practically out of his mind by the time he gets back to the office, taking the steps two at a time as he runs back up to Herondale’s office.

“Ma’m, Magnus is – Camille has abducted Magnus,” he says.

Herondale gives him a blank look. “And?”

“And, and we need to do something, obviously – ”

“The assignment’s over, Lightwood.” Herondale closes the folder she’s looking through. “What happens to Magnus Bane is no longer your concern.”

Alec stares at her. “No, you’re not understanding me. Camille is – she is _evil_. She’s taken Magnus against his will, while he was exhausted from helping _us_ subdue his father safely.”

“You might recall that I never asked him to do that,” Herondale says, somewhat tartly.

“That’s not the point!” Alec bursts out. “Look, you don’t like what I did, fine, I get it. It would have been easier for you if you didn’t have to put together an actual case against Asmodeus, cheaper for the tax payers if we didn’t put him in prison. Fire me, I don’t care. I did what I felt was right. But that has nothing to do with what’s happening now. Magnus is a civilian. He has _no_ connections to his father’s criminal enterprises and has broken no laws, and he is being held against his will and probably tortured as we speak. You _have_ to help me find him.”

“Go find Aldertree,” Herondale says. “He seems to think you did something noteworthy. Maybe he’ll help.”

Alec squares his jaw and jogs out of her office, hoping that Aldertree will still be there. Fortunately, he is, standing in a knot with several other agents. “Sir – ”

“Ah, the man of the hour,” Aldertree says. “We were just talking about you – ”

“Sir, Magnus Bane has been abducted by Camille. I need a team – ”

Aldertree looks about as blank as Herondale had. “Slow down. Magnus is the warlock you were pretending to date, am I right?”

“Magnus is the warlock I was _actually dating_ ,” Alec says impatiently, “who just happened to be Asmodeus’ son. Camille is his homicidal ex-girlfriend, and she’s abducted him, and I need to find him. Magnus is – he’s just a civilian, he wasn’t involved in his father’s criminal enterprises.”

“That sounds more like a matter for the local police,” Aldertree says.

“No, listen to me,” Alec demands. “There isn’t time for that. We have to find him, we have to get him _now_ – Camille is a nightmare, she – ”

“Lightwood,” Aldertree interrupts. “You did well, okay? I understand that it can be hard to let go when you’re done with an undercover job, but if you don’t let it go, it looks like you got too attached. The job’s over. Go home, get some sleep. I’ll talk to my contact at the NYPD, but I’m sure this guy can survive a few hours with his ex-girlfriend. You’re going to do great things with the bureau. Don’t throw that away for a warlock.”

Alec just stares at him for a long minute before blurting out, “Let – let me talk to Asmodeus. There must be something he can do. Magnus is his son – ”

“You are not to go within five hundred feet of Asmodeus,” Aldertree says. “Go home, Lightwood. It’s over.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

Aldertree walks away. Alec stands there for a few moments, almost unable to take it in. Things had been going so well. He had really thought that everything was going to be okay. Now he has to sit and wait while Camille tortures Magnus. Even if Alec manages to get him back, he might not be the same. If he thinks that Alec has been killed, even for an hour, it might be a long time before he manages to open up again, before he allows Alec to love him.

The _only_ person who can help him get Magnus back is Asmodeus. He doesn’t even know if Asmodeus will be willing to help him, but he _does_ know that if he goes to talk to him, his career is over. Everything he’s worked towards for the last decade, down the drain. But he has to find Magnus. That’s more important than any career ever could be.

Decision made, his feet take him past his desk and to the hallway with the holding cells. They’re full, but he knows which one Asmodeus will be in, because it’s the one with the strongest protections on it. There’s an agent in a suit standing just outside it. “I need to speak to the prisoner,” Alec says.

The man shakes his head. “Special Agent-in-Charge Herondale says nobody goes in or out.”

“I’m Alec Lightwood. I need to speak with him.”

“Talk to Herondale, then.”

“Shit,” Alec says, and before he can think better of the idea, he punches the man squarely in the face. He goes down hard. Some of the people in the holding cells hoot and holler. That’s going to attract attention, and he’s not going to have much time. He grabs the man’s keycard, swipes it, and lets himself into the cell.

Asmodeus is sitting in the center. He’s taken off his shoes and is sitting Lotus-style, eyes closed, meditating. But he opens them when Alec comes in. His face is blank, showing no emotion whatsoever, and he says nothing.

“Okay, look,” Alec says, “I know that I’m probably your least favorite person in the world right now. I’m not here to apologize or beg forgiveness. But Camille has Magnus, and he needs you right now.”

A flicker of concern crosses over Asmodeus’ face, but he schools it back into blank neutrality quickly enough. “You know, when I woke up here, for a minute I thought it couldn’t be what it looked like. Perhaps we had all been drugged and you were in trouble, or perhaps you and Magnus had been coerced into acting against me. But then I felt the binding on me. My son’s work. He’s quite powerful, almost as much as I am. Nobody could have forced him to cast a spell like that, not with this much . . . conviction.”

“That’s great, Asmodeus,” Alec says impatiently. “Yes, we betrayed you. I’m not sorry. You’re a criminal. You’ve built your life on the suffering of other people. I wanted to put you in jail for the rest of your life, and none of that is relevant right now because _Camille has Magnus_.”

Asmodeus’ jaw tightens. “And what do you expect me to do about it?”

“I will get you out of here,” Alec says. “I will turn my back while you portal yourself to a non-extradition country when this is over. I don’t care what I have to do. Magnus is the only thing that matters to me.”

Asmodeus looks at him thoughtfully, carefully weighing the options. “You truly love my son.”

“Yes.”

“Answer one question for me, then. Did you ask him to betray me?”

Alec meets his gaze. “No. I never intended to involve him in any of this. It was his choice.”

Asmodeus studies him for another long moment. “I believe you.”

“Are we good, then?”

Asmodeus nods. “Let’s go get my son.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Getting him out of the office is easy. The wards that keep Asmodeus from doing magic only work when the circle is completed, so once Alec takes off the cuffs and opens the door, he’s free. They don’t have to try to go past the guards; Asmodeus merely portals them back to Magnus’ loft. Asmodeus goes into the bathroom and picks up Magnus’ hairbrush, picking a single hair out of it.

“Now, I can get you to Magnus, and I can get you in,” Asmodeus says, “but my ability to deal with Camille will be . . . hindered . . . by what Magnus did to me.”

Alec nods and opens a desk drawer, pulling out his Beretta. “I’ll handle Camille.”

“That’s very impressive, Robo-Cop, but there are a few things you have to keep in mind,” Asmodeus says. “Camille will almost certainly pay more attention to me than to you. She won’t see you as a threat. This is good. That means I can hold her attention while you get to Magnus. However, you can’t forget the death curse. If you don’t want her using it to kill you, Magnus, or both of you, then we’re going to have to be careful. The edge we have is that if we kill her while she is actively casting, then she won’t be able to use her death curse. Her magic will already be spent. So if I can get her to attack me, you can take your shot. But you _must not_ kill her until she does that, and you’d better be a good shot, Lightwood. Because if all you do is wound her, we’ll probably all end up dead.”

“Trust me, I won’t just wound her,” Alec says.

Asmodeus gives a quick nod. “We need a map of the city. Do you think Magnus has one?”

“Probably. Or I could pull one up on my laptop.”

“Paper would be better.” Seeing Alec’s questioning look, Asmodeus says, “I could portal us directly to Magnus, using his hair. But, that would dump us in the same room as him and Camille without giving us a chance to reconnoiter. Like what happened when you were held captive by Morgenstern. In that case, it wasn’t a big deal because I could use my magic to immobilize the enemy, but Camille might be able to dodge that. If I use a map to do a locating spell, we can approach from the outside.”

“Got it.” Alec looks through Magnus’ bookshelves and finds a book of maps from all over the world. It includes one of New York City. “How do you know they’re still in the city?”

“Camille likes her creature comforts,” Asmodeus says. “She would stay where she’s familiar. We can portal, but we can’t do it all day, every day. Camille isn’t even half as powerful as Magnus is. She never would have gotten the better of him if somebody hadn’t exhausted himself doing a binding spell.”

Alec doesn’t bite. “So let’s find her.”

Asmodeus nods again. He holds his hand over the map, blue power flowing down off of it and lighting up the page. The strand of Magnus’ hair hovers in midair for a few moments, then suddenly jerks over to one corner of the map. “Upper Manhattan,” he says, and opens a portal with a wave of his hand. Without waiting for Alec to reply, he grabs him by the wrist and pulls him through, putting them on a street corner. He’s paying very little attention to Alec as he focuses on the locating spell he’s now doing, following it to a gorgeous house. “Okay. Let me see if I can . . .” He gestures quickly to do some magic, but the blue glow sputters out. “No. Damn.”

“What?” Alec asks.

“I was _hoping_ that I would be able to do a spell that would keep Camille from seeing you. But since I know that you intend to kill her, that would be using my magic to harm another.” Asmodeus gives a wry smile. “Intentions are what matters with a spell like this.”

“Then I’ll take my chances,” Alec says.

“Stay behind me. I’ll keep her talking. Remember, wait for her to cast on me.”

Alec nods. “Got it.”

Asmodeus gives a little flick of his wrist, clearly intending to unlock and open the door, but it doesn’t budge. He groans. “For God’s _sake_ , Magnus – ”

“What now?” Alec asks.

“I can’t use my magic to unlock the door, because I know you’re going to – ” Asmodeus huffs out a sigh as Alec shoulders him aside, pulling out a credit card. “Do they teach you that at Quantico?”

“Yes, actually,” Alec says, sliding the card into the crack of the door. “We’re encouraged not to kick down doors and let people know we’re coming unless we really have to.” It takes a few minutes of bending the card carefully before he manages to get the door open. He lets Asmodeus go first, and follows the man through the darkened house, up a set of stairs.

The next door is thankfully unlocked, and lets them out into a bedroom that looks like something from a palace. The floor is marble and all the furniture is ornate and gilded. There’s a fireplace on one side of the room with a fire crackling away in it. On the other side of the room is a canopy bed, and Alec’s gaze flicks to it because he’s sure Magnus will be in it. He’s one hundred percent correct. There’s a sheet over him, pulled up to his abdomen, so Alec can’t tell if he’s injured, and his hands are bound above his head.

For a moment, he doesn’t see Camille, but then an interior door opens and she walks back into the room. She’s wearing a silk dressing gown and nothing else, and she freezes as soon as she sees Asmodeus, but recovers well. “Well, fancy meeting a man like you here,” she says. Magnus’ eyes jerk open, and he tries to sit up, but can’t. He sees Alec behind his father, and his eyes go even wider, his face etched with heartbreaking hope.

“Good morning, Camille,” Asmodeus says, in his usual pleasant tone. “I see you’ve fallen into my trap.”

“Oh, did I?” Camille asks, smiling.

“You didn’t believe my son would really betray me and put me in jail, did you?” Asmodeus asks. “Of course not. But you, my dear, were playing least-in-sight, and it was annoying me. I figured that if you thought I was out of the picture, you would make a move. And you did.”

Camille considers for a moment, then shakes her head. “No, I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t have allowed me to get hold of Magnus for as much as two minutes, let alone the two hours I’ve actually been enjoying him.”

Alec’s jaw tightens, and he wants to go to Magnus, but doesn’t dare attract Camille’s attention. If he could have killed Camille right then and there, he would have.

“Does it matter?” Asmodeus asks. “I’m here now, and you are never going to lay a finger on him again.”

“I don’t need to,” Camille says, smirking, and holds something up. It’s so incongruous that Alec just blinks at it for a minute. It’s a doll, a simple plastic one that might have been a Barbie at some point in a past life. Camille sees Alec’s blank look, and gloats. “You think you know him so well, but I know him better than anyone. I bet you didn’t even know he had kept this.”

“Camille.” Asmodeus’ voice is quiet, calm, deadly. “Touch that doll, and I will – ”

“You’ll what?” Camille runs a fingernail down the doll’s back, and in the bed, Magnus shudders. “I could break it in half before you could even touch me.”

Asmodeus’ jaw tightens, and Alec sees genuine fear on his face.

“Or . . .” Camille walks casually over to the fireplace. “Maybe I should just drop it in the fire. Will you still love him if he’s not beautiful anymore?”

“Camille,” Magnus manages.

“Quiet,” Camille snaps at him, and Alec can see her pinch two fingers around the doll’s throat. Magnus makes a strangled noise, his body tensing as he tries to get in air.

“Let him go,” Asmodeus says.

“Or what?” Camille asks.

“Don’t test me, little girl.”

Camille squeezes harder. Magnus’ body writhes on the bed as he struggles to breathe.

“Should I break his neck?” Camille asks. “Or would that be too quick? I think it would be too quick. I don’t _want_ to kill him, you know. So don’t make me.”

She releases her grip on the doll’s neck. Magnus gasps for air, and Alec can’t take it anymore. He drops to his knees beside the bed, smoothing down Magnus’ hair. “It’s okay, I’m here,” he murmurs, as Magnus gives a little shuddering sob. “I won’t let her hurt you again, I’m here.”

“Aw,” Camille says, smiling. “That’s adorable. But back off, or I’ll drop him in the fire.”

“Fuck you,” Alec retorts. “I don’t care. I don’t care if you think he’s not beautiful anymore. He’ll always be beautiful. That’s why you hate him so much. Because you know how beautiful he is, and that makes you realize how ugly you are on the inside. You’re nothing but a cruel, petty, spiteful bitch, and you don’t deserve him and you can’t have him. I’ll _never_ let you have him.”

Camille screams in rage and stamps her foot like a toddler, and she throws the doll towards the fire.

It’s barely left her hand when a portal opens right underneath it, and the doll falls through. It lands on the bed right next to Alec’s hand.

Camille blinks at the doll, then blinks at Asmodeus. He gives a little shrug. “That’s your problem, Camille. You never think ahead.”

He jerks one hand out, alive with blue flame, as if he’s about to cast a spell that’s going to put her through the wall. He can’t, Alec knows he can’t, but Camille doesn’t. She strikes first, holding up both hands, vivid red magic pouring off of them. Asmodeus’ magic turns to a shield, although the force of Camille’s spell still drives him backwards a step.

Alec’s gun comes up and he pulls the trigger, not just once, but three times. Every bullet hits Camille in the chest. The magic she’s been pouring out intensifies into white-hot flame for a few brief seconds, and Asmodeus’ shield shatters. Camille staggers backwards and collapses to the floor. Asmodeus is left standing, breathing raggedly, and he looks at Alec. “Magnus – okay?”

Alec nods, reaching out again to smooth Magnus’ hair down. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re both okay.”

“Excellent,” Asmodeus says, and crumples to the floor. Magnus lets out a little cry of alarm and tries to sit up, but he’s still bound to the bed. Alec swears and takes out a knife, cutting through the soft leather that Camille had tied him down with.

“Father – no, no, no,” Magnus says, as Alec half-supports, half-carries him over to where Asmodeus is lying in a crumpled heap.

“What is it, what happened?” Alec asks, rolling Asmodeus onto his back, seeing the way Camille’s magic had practically carved all the way through his chest. His shirt is soaked with blood, burned and blackened at the edges of the hole.

“Camille’s death curse – ” Magnus presses his fingers against Asmodeus’ throat. “Oh, God – ”

“But he said – he said she wouldn’t be able to cast a death curse if she was casting when I killed her – ”

Magnus’ gaze jerks up to him. “What? No. She couldn’t _redirect_ , but – oh, God,” he repeats, the words more of a sob. Blue magic wells up around his hands, condenses around the wound, but sputters out just as quickly. Magnus starts to sag backwards, and Alec grabs him. “I need – your strength.”

Alec grips his hand hard. “Take what you need.”

The blue glow around Magnus’ hand intensifies, and Alec helps him sit up straight. It’s a weird sensation, Magnus taking his strength. It’s like the temperature is dropping, and he’s a little bit dizzy all of a sudden. The light envelopes Asmodeus’ chest, seeping into the wound. Slowly, it begins to close. The room is freezing, and Alec’s vision is starting to go black around the edges. He doesn’t have enough. They’re not going to be able to do enough.

Asmodeus rolls onto his side and begins to cough. Magnus drops Alec’s hand and puts both hands on either side of his father’s face. “Can you hear me?”

“Fuck,” Asmodeus wheezes. “That stings.”

Magnus collapses against his father, letting out a choked sob, and after a brief moment, Asmodeus’ hand comes up and pats him on the back.

“Jesus,” Alec says, practically faint from relief – or maybe that’s from the way he’s been drained. He wants to sleep for a week. “You asshole. You lied to me.”

Asmodeus laughs weakly and says, “Pot, kettle.”

“Fair enough.” Alec rakes both hands through his hair before leaning over to rub slow, soothing circles into Magnus’ back.

They sit there in silence for several long minutes, all of them exhausted. Finally, Asmodeus says, “Magnus, if what I do bothers you so much, why didn’t you ever just tell me that?”

Magnus sits up, blinking at his father in surprise. Then he rolls his eyes. “Oh, yes, I’m sure that would have gone over swimmingly. Father, would you quit being a crime lord for me?”

“I might have. Just passed things along to my lieutenants.”

“Which means that nothing would have changed. People still would have been hurt because of the empire _you_ built. Passing down the reins doesn’t change anything. What Alec and I did will.”

“Oh, my sweet, naïve baby boy,” Asmodeus mutters. “All you and Alec have done is created a power vacuum and a turf war.”

Magnus’ jaw trembles, and Alec squeezes his hand. “That may be so,” he says, “but that doesn’t mean that it won’t end in a positive. The people who fight over the scraps left behind might not be as good at it as you were. They won’t be as smart, or as careful. There will be fewer drugs, fewer weapons available. I never thought crime would vanish overnight. But I’m not going to be convinced that dismantling your organization was a bad thing.”

Asmodeus groans and manages to sit up. “You’re lucky my son loves you so much,” he says.

“Yes,” Alec agrees, rubbing his hand over Magnus’ hair. “For more than one reason. I’m very lucky.”

Magnus manages a wan smile for him, but then says to his father, “Even after what I did, you still came here to save me. You were willing to take Camille’s death curse, knowing it could kill you, so she couldn’t cast it on me.”

Asmodeus shrugs. “You’re my son.”

Magnus leans against his father’s shoulder. Then he frowns suddenly. “Wait. How did you get here? How did you even know I was in trouble?”

“I, uh, I broke him out,” Alec says, and winces. “I hope you were serious about being willing to go on the run, because half of the law enforcement in New York City is going to be looking for me.”

“Oh, Alec,” Magnus says. “You – you were going to get a promotion, you shouldn’t have – ”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alec says. “You’re safe. Nothing else matters besides that.” He sighs a little and says, “Besides, my superiors didn’t give me much choice. They didn’t even see why I cared. Kept telling me ‘the assignment’s over’ like I hadn’t told them eighty times that I was really your boyfriend and that part wasn’t a cover.”

“Fiancé,” Magnus corrects, smiling slightly.

“Oh, yeah, right. Fiancé.” Alec smiles, a dippy little grin that he can’t help.

“And you think they’re the good guys,” Asmodeus says, rolling his eyes.

“No,” Alec says, “no, I got past that around the time that I practically had to blackmail them into taking you alive instead of just blowing up the building I told them you were in. I guess maybe there really aren’t any good guys.” He looks at the way Asmodeus’ hand is pressed against his wounded chest. “Or maybe everyone’s both good and bad.”

“That is way too profound for seven AM,” Magnus says.

“Agreed,” Asmodeus says.

“What do we do now?” Alec asks. “You’re both way too weak to portal, but everyone’s going to be looking for us.”

Magnus nods. “As much as I’d prefer to get the hell out of this nightmare house, I think the best thing to do right now would be to get some rest. No one will look for us here. We can portal ourselves to Tahiti this evening.”

“Okay.” Alec smoothes down his hair and gives him a kiss. “Come on. Let’s at least find a different bedroom.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a funny story I can now that the fic is basically over ... when I first outlined this, I was really, really worried that people would think I was letting Asmodeus off too lightly. I mean, he's a crime lord! Could I really just let him off the hook?
> 
> Now after all you lovely people commenting, I'm kind of worried that I was *too mean* to Asmodeus, LOL. I think I made him a bit more likable than I actually intended to. XD I did very much enjoy writing him, though. ^_^
> 
> Anyway, that's all! Thank you for reading, I hope you've enjoyed the fic!

There’s a lot to talk about, and Alec knows it, but they’re both so tired that they just curl up on the first cushioned surface they see and then pass out. Alec wakes up with a start, several hours later, from a bad dream where he woke up to find Magnus gone. He sees Magnus beside him and relaxes, if only slightly.

His sudden movement has woken Magnus, and the warlock is blinking at him slowly. “Hey,” he says, somewhat sleepily, and then his own eyes go wide as memory floods back in. He sits bolt upright. “Oh my God - you - Camille was - ”

“Easy, easy,” Alec says, drawing him back down onto the bed and rubbing a hand over his hair. “I’m here, you’re safe.” He lets that sink in for a few moments. “How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, I . . . she didn’t hurt me. Not . . . not really.” Magnus lets out a shuddering breath and tucks himself up against Alec, resting a head on his shoulder. Alec gets an arm around him, rubbing a hand down Magnus’ back.

“I’m so sorry that I left you alone,” Alec says, leaning slightly so he can press a kiss into Magnus’ forehead. “It just - it never occurred to me - ”

Magnus reaches up and presses his fingers over Alec’s mouth. “This wasn’t your fault, Alec.”

“I never should have left you. You, you were tired and - ”

“You know, it might not have occurred to you, but it _had_ occurred to me.” Magnus shifts slightly. “I knew that Camille might see my father’s absence as an opportunity. I know how she thinks - how she _thought_ ,” he corrects, with another shudder. “That was part of why I was prepared to go on the run. I just never thought she would move so fast. But it wasn’t your fault, Alec. Remember when I tried to blame her poisoning you on me? You told me it wasn’t my fault, and you were right. That wasn’t my fault, and this wasn’t yours.”

Alec lets out a breath. “I guess you’re right.”

They lay in silence for a minute, while Alec rubs Magnus’ back, and Magnus traces the lines of Alec’s lips with one finger.

“That doll,” Alec finally says. “Was it the one your mother gave you?”

Magnus nods. “I’ve kept it all these years. An object I was so attached to - doing the magic to turn it into a voodoo doll must have been easy for her. I’m glad my father was able to save it.”

“Me too,” Alec says. He groans and tries to sit up. “I guess we should go check on him.”

“Oh, he’s long gone by now,” Magnus says, and laughs quietly. “My father is a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. No way would he have waited around for you to change your mind about letting him go.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Alec says. “He saved your life.”

“I know that, and you know that,” Magnus says, “but in the end, my father didn’t really know you at all. He’s very aware of that. He wouldn’t take the chance.” He pulls Alec back down next to him. “Don’t worry about my father, Alec. I’m one hundred percent sure he’ll be fine, ninety percent sure he’s already working on how to get my siblings out of jail, and about seventy-five percent sure he’s still going to find a way to turn up at our wedding.”

Alec sighs. “Yeah, I’m not . . . not even sure how we’re going to have one. I mean. I’m certainly not going to be able to use my real identity any time soon, and it seems a little stupid to get married under a false one.”

Magnus leans over and kisses him on the temple. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Alec asks, rolling over so they’re facing.

“For _what_? You gave up your career for me.”

Alec flushes pink. “Only because the people in charge of me were fucking useless. I mean, it’s not like you forced me to choose between the two. They’re the ones who did that.”

“But you still did it. I know how hard you worked to get where you were. I know how much the law matters to you, and how much you wanted to make sure that my father and his people were brought to justice. You gave all of that up, to save me.”

“Well, most of them will still be brought to justice,” Alec says, and sighs. “I’m not one hundred percent comfortable with the idea of your father on a beach sipping a mai tai, but I guess I can live with it after what happened.”

“If nothing else, the binding I put on him is still there. He’ll never be able to hurt anyone else again.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Alec perks up a little. “I just - I couldn’t _wait_. Aldertree even told me it wouldn’t kill you to spend some time with your ex-girlfriend, the dick.”

Magnus winces. “Spoken like someone who had never met Camille.”

“Yeah. And it was just - I thought about what she must be doing to you, and I - ” Alec’s voice trembles slightly. “God, I know it’s not my fault, but I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not . . .” Magnus lets out a breath. “I won’t say it was the most fun two hours of my life. But it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it could have been, and probably nowhere near as bad as you’re imagining.”

“She didn’t . . .”

“No.” Magnus twines his fingers through Alec’s. “She was a big fan of anticipation, Camille. She told me all about what she was _going_ to do to me, but other than taking my clothes and tying me to the bed, she didn’t actually touch me.”

“Oh, thank God.” Alec lets out a breath that’s almost a sob. “I was just - imagining what it must have been like for you - ”

“I know. But I’m fine, or at least mostly fine. I knew you would come for me.”

Alec blinks at this, a little startled. “I figured Camille would have told she had killed me. Hell, she _told_ me she was going to tell you that, that she could work up an illusion spell.”

“Oh, she did,” Magnus says, “but I didn’t believe her. Part of that might have just been how much I didn’t _want_ to believe her. But mostly it was because she moved so fast. I knew you would have been at the office being debriefed all night. I couldn’t see how she could have gotten to you so quickly. But Camille never knew about you being an FBI agent, never knew about you being a mole. She had no idea where you were; she only knew that you weren’t at the loft with me. So it never occurred to her that you were in a place that she wouldn’t have been able to get to you.” Magnus leans in closer, cuddling as close to Alec as he can get. “I didn’t want to believe her, told myself it had to be untrue, and waited for you. That being said, I _am_ glad you didn’t waste time trying to convince your superiors. Anticipation is all well and good, but Camille wasn’t known for her patience.”

“No kidding.” Alec shakes his head a little. “But as much as my career matters to me, there are other things that matter more. You. Us. A little house on a beach somewhere.”

Magnus smiles, and leans over for a kiss. “That sounds amazing.” They kiss several times, and then Magnus pulls away. “What about your sister, though? How much did she know?”

“Almost everything. In fact, I told her last week not to worry if I dropped out of contact for a while. I knew that we might have to go underground after your father’s organization was dismantled and that it wouldn’t be safe to contact her. She made me promise not to get married without her, and told me that beyond that, do what I needed to do.”

“All right. That’s good.” Magnus sighs a little. “I have to admit, I _do_ like the idea of finding an uninhabited island in Indonesia and setting up camp there for a few months. There are miles of beaches that we can be entirely alone on.”

Alec laughs quietly. “That sounds great in theory, but I think we’re going to need things like a house long-term.”

“True. We can only have sex on the beach for so many hours per day.” Magnus nestles closer to him, leaning in for another kiss, open-mouthed and lingering. “But I’m sure I can make some accommodations for us. Once I can get something to eat, I think I’ll be strong enough to portal. I wonder if there’s any food here.”

“Let me go look.” Alec presses a kiss against his temple and climbs out of bed. He goes down to the kitchen and finds a number of take-out boxes in the refrigerator. Camille wasn’t one for cooking, it seems, which doesn’t really surprise him. He sniffs a few of them, and they seem good, so he grabs some of the Chinese leftovers and sticks them in the microwave.

“Oh, Lord, that smells good,” Magnus says, sitting up as Alec comes back into the room. Alec sets the tray down on the bed and hands Magnus a pair of chopsticks, and they both dig in. “This is morbid, isn’t it,” Magnus remarks, after a few mouthfuls of fried rice. “Staying in Camille’s house, eating her leftovers, while her body is in a room down the hall.”

Alec shrugs a little. “It’s her own damn fault.”

Magnus shakes his head. “That’s true, but . . . it’s just odd to think about. I don’t think I expected I’d ever really be free of her. The best-case scenario was that I would spend the rest of my life waiting for her to turn up again.” He clears his throat and adds, “It’s very out of character for her. Being dead.”

Alec can’t help but chuckle a little at Magnus’ phrasing, but then looks over at him, feeling a little awkward. “I’m sorry. If her being dead upsets you.”

“It doesn’t. Not really. It’s just that sometimes I think back to the person who I thought she was, the woman I fell in love with, and even though I know that person didn’t really exist, I miss her.” Magnus redirects his attention to his food. “I’m sorry if that’s weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Alec says, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. He searches for something to say that might make Magnus feel better. “Hey, you know what we should do, once we have a house on our uninhabited Indonesian island? We should get a cat. Maybe two.”

This does make Magnus smile. “We’d have to keep them inside. They’d wreak havoc on the local wildlife.”

“You,” Alec says, pressing a kiss into the side of Magnus’ neck, “are the greatest warlock in the world. I’m very sure you can find a way to keep a couple cats inside a house.”

Magnus laughs quietly. “Second greatest.”

“Second _strongest_ ,” Alec says. “But definitely greatest.”

“You know, flattery will get you . . . oh, who am I kidding. I love being flattered. It will get you absolutely everywhere.”

Now Alec laughs. “Everywhere?”

Magnus leans over for a kiss, light and teasing. “Everywhere. I’m feeling much better after the meal. I should be able to get a portal open now.”

“Sounds good. You pick the island.” Alec returns the kiss with interest.

“You know,” Magnus says, running his fingers through Alec’s hair, “it probably sounds a little silly, but I’m really glad I met you.”

Alec smiles, leaning his forehead against Magnus’. “I’m really glad I met you, too. Now let’s go find a beach.”

 

~fin~

 


End file.
